O, Were I A Bird!


O, were I a bird could sing all the day,
I would fly to her bower to carol my lay;
Or were I breath of the soft scented air,
I would waft all my sweets to her bower so fair.
Or were I a thought could awaken a smile,
I would rest on her lip, all her woes to beguile;
I would make my bright throne in her sorrowing heart,
And each pulse that beat should its pleasure impart.

O, were I a strain of some melody sweet,
I would steal to her chamber her slumbers to greet;
Or were I a dream could recall to her mind,
The pleasures and joys she has long left behind:


I would hover around in the stillness of night,
And her visions of sleep should be joyously bright.
I would kiss from her cheek ev'ry envious tear,
And guard her fond bosom from sorrow and fear.