I.
When merry hearts were gay, Careless of aught but play, Poor Flora slipt away, Sadd'ning to Mora;[17] Loose flow'd her yellow hair, Quick heaved her bosom bare, As to the troubled air She vented her sorrow.
When merry hearts were gay, Careless of aught but play, Poor Flora slipt away, Sadd'ning to Mora;[17] Loose flow'd her yellow hair, Quick heaved her bosom bare, As to the troubled air She vented her sorrow.