SONG. BROAD in the west the sun descends, I love his parting ray; The robe of purple light he lends To dress the fading day. For then, in yon grey mist array'd, Soon twilight hastens near, And softly throws the deep'ning shade That hides my frequent tear! From me, capricious beauty, take The fruitless boon you gave; Those useless graces, that can make Each youth, but one, my slave. All praise but his I careless hear; His words alone impart The charm that ever soothes my ear, And melts my partial heart! False youth! though fair LOUISA'S face, Though bright her tresses shine, Canst thou in her light glances trace The tenderness of mine? Thy form which from my heart I tear, No more that heart shall move; Alas! the indignation there Is but the pang of love!