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124 SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE.
"WE KNOW NOT HOW HAPPY WE ARE."
" We know not how happy we are,"
Said a voice at the close of the day, As we sat where a beautiful star Was shedding a silvery ray: So blissful and sweet were the skies above, I fancied them glowing with looks of love; All nature with transport seem'd to thrill, Tho' the breeze was hush'd and the vine was still.
" We know not how happy we are,"
I have thought in my musings to-night: We are free from earth's festering care, And blest with unmeasured delight. Away from the world, its noise and its strife, So sweetly secluded and tranquil our life; Here nothing arises our pleasures to mar— We know not, we know not how happy we are.
1848.
MY BROTHER.
Written on the anniversary of his death.
Four long, long years have past Since I watch'd beside him, with a tearful eye, Night after night, and knew that he must die,
And fear'd each day the last. |
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