| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
HIBERNIAN SONGSTER. |
127 |
||
|
|
|||
|
WHEN THRO' LIFE UNBLEST WE ROVE.
. When thro' life unblest we rove,
Losing all that made life dear, Should some notes we us'd to love
In days of boyhood, meet our ear, Oh, how welcome breathes the strain,
Wak'nlng thoughts that long have slept, Kindling former smiles again
In faded eyes that long have wept. Like the gale, that Blghs along
Beds of oriental flow'rs, Is the grateful breath of song,
That once was heard In happier hours; Filled with balm the gale goes on,
Tho' the flow'rs have sunk in death So when pleasure's dream is gone
Its memory lives in music's breath. Music, oh! how faint, how weak,
Language fades before thy spell; Why should feeling ever speak
When thou canst breathe her sou! so well? Friendship's balmy words may feign.
Love's are ev'n more false than they; Oh! 'tis only music's strain,
Can sweetly soothe and not betray! |
|||
|
|
|||
|
JUANITA.
Soft o'er the fountain,
Llng'rlng fails the southern moon; Far o'er the mountain,
Breaks the day too soon! In thy dark eye's splendor,
Where the warm light loves to dwell "Weary looks, yet tender,
Speak their fond farewell! Nita! Juanita!
Ask thy soul if we should part! Nita! Juanita!
Lean thou on my heart.
When in thy dreaming
Moons like these shall shine again, And daylight beaming,
Prove thy dreams are vain, Wilt thou not, relenting,
For thine absent lover sigh, In thy heart consenting
To a prayer gone by? Nita! Juanita!
Let me linger by thy side! Nita! Juanita!
Be my own fair bride! |
|||
|
|
|||
|
THE FOUP.-LEAVED SHAMROCK.
I'll seek a four-leaved shamrock in all the fairy dells. And if I find the charmed leaves, O, how I'll weave my spells! I would not waste my magic might on diamond, pearl, or gold, For treasure tires the weary sense—such triumph Is but cold; But I would play th' enchanter's part, in casting bliss around— Oh! not a tear, nor aching heart, shouid in the world be found.
To worth I would give honor; I'd dry the mourner's tears,
And to the pallid lip recall the smile of happier years,
And hearts that had been long estranged, and friends that had grown cold,
Should meet again, like parted streams, and mingle as of old.
Oh! thus I'd play th' enchanter's part, thus scatter bliss around,
And not a tear, nor aching heart, should in the world be found! |
|||