Fugitive Verses

---

SONG.

---

	BIRD soaring high, cloud in the sky,
	Where go ye? O where go ye?
	Where the smoke from the gipsy's fire is veering,
	And our gay little boat, o'er the blue frith steering,
	Will soon bear me.

	My thoughts before, on yonder shore,
	Are free as wind, are free as wind,
	While this body of mine on its palfrey riding,
	Right lazy of pace, or on smooth wave gliding,
	Is far behind.

	But see I not, yon distant spot?
	O now I see, O now I see!
	Where the mist up the distant hill is creeping,
	And woods through the morning cloud are peeping,
	There dwelleth she.

---

	Doth gentle deep her senses steep
	Or does she wake? or does she wake?
	Even now perhaps, her dark hair raising,
	At her casement she stands, o'er the waters she's gazing,
	All for my sake.

	Her face is gay as the joyous day,
	And O how sweet! and O how sweet!
	Her voice as she utters her modest greeting,
	While my heart at the sound is so quickly beating,
	Whene'er we meet!

	When time runs on, and weeks are gone,
	Then on that shore, then on that shore,
	I'll meet her with all my gay bridesmen bounding,
	In light-hearted glee to the minstrel's sounding,
	And part no more.

About this text
Courtesy of University of California, Davis. General Library. Digital Intitiatives Program.; http://digital.lib.ucdavis.edu/projects/bwrp
http://content.cdlib.org/view?docId=kt567nb8xt&brand=oac4
Title: Fugitive Verses
By:  Baillie, Joanna, 1762-1851, creator, British Women Romantic Poets Project
Date: 2001 (issued)
Contributing Institution: University of California, Davis. General Library. Digital Intitiatives Program.; http://digital.lib.ucdavis.edu/projects/bwrp
Copyright Note:

Any file or element contained herein may be displayed or transmitted across a network by anyone who has signed a license agreement with the U.C. Regents.

Copy and distribution of any element or file is prohibited without the express written permission of the U.C. Regents.

Regents of the University of California