"O Tuneful Voice"
di Anne Hunter (fl. 1790)

O tuneful voice I still deplore,
Thy accents, which I hear no more,
Still vibrate on my heart.
In Echo's cave I long to dwell
And still to hear that sad farewell
When we were forced to part.
Bright eyes! O that the task were mine
To guard the liquid fires that shine
And round your orbits play,
To watch them with a vestal's care,
To feed with smiles a light so fair
That it may ne'er decay.