| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH MELODIES. 8& |
||
|
When we see the first glory of youth pass us by,
Like a leaf on the stream that will never return ; When our cup, which had sparkled with pleasure so high,
First tastes of the other, the dark-flowing urn ; Then, then is the time when affection holds sway
With a depth and a tenderness joy never knew ; Love, nurs'd among pleasures, is faithless as they,
But the Love born of Sorrow, like Sorrow, is true.
In climes full of sunshine, though splendid the flowers,
Their sighs have no freshness, their odour no worth ; 'T is the cloud and the mist of our own Isle of showers
That call the rich spirit of fragrancy forth. So it is not 'mid splendour, prosperity, mirth,
That the depth of Love's generous spirit appears ; To the sunshine of smiles it may first owe its birth,
But the soul of its sweetness is drawn out by tears. |
||
|
WHEN COLD IN THE EARTH.
When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast lov'd,
Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then ; Or, if from their slumber the veil be remov'd,
Weep o'er them in silence, and close it again. And oh ! if 'tis pain to remember how far
From the pathways of light he was tempted to roam, Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star
That arose on his darkness, and guided him home. o 3 |
||