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630 OUR FAMILIAR SONGS. |
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This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,
There's nothing true but heaven.
And false the light on glory's plume,
As fading hues of ev'n; And love, and hope, and beauty's bloom, |
Are blossoms gathered for the tomb-There's nothing bright but heaven.
Poor wanderers of a stormy day !
From wave to wave we're driven; And fancy's flash and reason's ray Serve but to light the trOURled way;
There's nothing calm but heaven. |
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THE PAUPER'S DRIVE.
Thomas Noel, author of the words of this quaint song, was an Englishman. In 1841 he published a volume of "Ehymes and Roundelays." He lived in a romantic home on the Thames, and among his poems i3 a pretty song about that river. The idea of " The PauÂper's Drive" was suggested to him by seeing a funeral where the body was borne upon a cart driven at full speed.
The music of the song is the composition of J. J. Htjtchtnson. |
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