Here you will find the Poem Song II of poet Charlotte Smith
DOES Pity give, though Fate denies, And to my wounds her balm impart? O speak--with those expressive eyes! Let one low sigh escape thine heart. The gazing crowd shall never guess What anxious, watchful Love can see; Nor know what those soft looks express, Nor dream that sign is meant for me. Ah! words are useless, words are vain, Thy generous sympathy to prove; And well that sign, those looks explain, That Clara mourns my hapless love.
