Fair

  thine am i, my faithful fair
  tune—“the quaker's wife.”
  thine am i, my faithful fair,
  thine, my lovely nancy;
  ev'ry pulse along my veins,
  ev'ry roving fancy.
  to thy bosom lay my heart,
  there to throb and languish;
  tho' despair had wrung its core,
  that would heal its anguish.
  take away those rosy lips,
  rich with balmy treasure;
  turn away thine eyes of love,
  lest i die with pleasure!
  what is life when wanting love?
  night without a morning:
  love's the cloudless summer sun,
  nature gay adorning.