...an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well The Ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest Grace ; For well she knew, I could not choose Bat gaze upon her Face. 139 I told her of the Knight, that wore Upon his Shield a burning Brand ; And...

...my Joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well The Ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest...

...an old and moving Story— An old rude Song that fitted .well The Ruin wild and hoary.. She listen'd with a flitting Blush With downcast Eyes and modest...knew,- I could not choose But gaze upon her Face.. I told her of the Knight, that wore Upon his shield a burning brand; And that for ten long years he...

...my Joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well The Ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest...

...my Joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story—- An old rude Song that fitted well The Ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest...

...Hope, my Joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me bast, whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well The Ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest...

...Hope, my Joy, my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The Songs, that make her grieve. I played a soft and doleful Air, I sang an old and moving Story — An old rude Song that fitted well The Ruin wild and hoary. She listened with a flitting Blush, With downcast Eyes and modest...

...my- joy! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story...song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could not...

...my joy ! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story—...song, that suited well That ruin wild and hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew, I could not...

...my joy! my Genevieve ! She loves me best, whene'er I sing The songs that make her grieve. I play'da soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story...An old rude song, that suited well That ruin wild arid hoary. She listen'd with a flitting blush, With downcast eyes and modest grace; For well she knew,...