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IRISH MELODIES. |
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To wliicli his wing excursive roves, Yet still, from time to time he loves To light upon earth and find such cheer As brightens our banquet here. No matter how far, how fleet he flies, You've only to light up kind young eyes, Such signal-fires as here are given, — And down he'll drop from Fancy's heaven, The minute such call to love or mirth Proclaims he's wanting on earth.
ALONE IN CROWDS TO WANDER ON.
Alone in crowds to wander on,
And feel that all the charm is gone
Which voices dear and eyes belov'd
Shed round us once, where'er we rov'd—
This, this the doom must be
Of all who've lov'd, and liv'd to see
The few bright things they thought would stay
For ever near them, die away.
Tho' fairer forms around us throng,
Their smiles to others all belong,
And want that charm which dwells alone
Round those the fond heart calls its own.
Where, where the sunny brow?
The long-known voice — where are they now ?
Thus ask I still, nor ask in vain,
The silence answers all too plain. |
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