SONG.
{"newspaper_name": "The Wilmingtonian, and Delaware advertiser.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
oh it is heaven to feel that there's one
To give and partakc Of thy bosom's wild bliss,
And cen when thy hopes are all faded and gone
Tho lost and forsakcn--snE cannot love less.
But clngs round thy form,


And treasures thee more
In sorrows bleak storm


Than ever before.
Thus Mary, belov'd of my bosom, feel
The frowns of adversely ne'er can change thee
For e'en in disgrace thou wouldst cling to me


still,


Nor own to thy heart there's one error in me.
Then let the world shun


I'VE nothing to fear,


While the spirit of One


Hovers ovcrme here.