song.—the day returns
tune—“seventh of november.”
the day returns, my bosom burns,
the blissful day we twa did meet:
tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,
ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.
than a' the pride that loads the tide,
and crosses o'er the sultry line;
than kingly robes, than s and globes,
heav'n gave me more—it made thee mine!
while day and night bring delight,
or nature aught of pleasure give;
while joys above my mind move,
for thee, and thee alone, i live.
when that grim foe of life below
es iween to
Song.—The Day Returns(1/2)