STANZAS.
Reading edition
Oh! ask not whither my heart hath flown, Nor who to that heart is dear; Though sweet the scenes that meet my view, My heart, oh! my heart is not here! Though friends surround, and fortune smile, And love e'en the prospect cheer; Though pleasure's roses strew my path, Yet my heart, oh! my heart is not here! But far o'er the blue wave's crested foam, Where the heather blooms so fair, And berries hang on the holly-bush, My heart, oh! my heart is there!