1.

The broken heart, that loves in vain,
Resigns the lov'd one never,
But, in despair, still hopes to gain,
The lost for ever:
Then, greet the shy morn's treacherous glow,
Thou pale autumnal blossom,
Ere chill November's sleet and snow
Beat on thy bosom!

2.

So, Ann still lov'd: it was her doom
To love, in shame and sorrow:
Charles came no more! but " He will come. "
She said, " to-morrow. "
Oh, yet for her, deep bliss remain'd!
She dream'd he came, and kiss'd her!
And, in that hour, the angels gain'd
Another sister.