 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
YIELD NOT, THOU SAD ONE, TO SIGHS.
Oh yield not, thou sad one, to sighs,
Nor murmur at Destiny's will,
Behold, for each pleasure that flies,
Another replacing it still.
Time's wing, were it all of one feather,
Far slower would be in its flight;
The storm gives a charm to fine weather,
And day would seem dark without night.
Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs.
Nor murmur at Destiny's will,
Behold, for each pleasure that flies,
Another replacing it still.
Time's wing, were it all of one feather,
Far slower would be in its flight;
The storm gives a charm to fine weather,
And day would seem dark without night.
Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs.
When we look on some lake that repeats
The loveliness bounding its shore,
A breeze o'er the soft surface fleets,
And the mirror-like beauty is o'er:—
But the breeze, ere it ruffled the deep,
Pervading the odorous bow'rs,
Awaken'd the flowr's from their sleep,
And wafted their sweets to be ours.
Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs.
The loveliness bounding its shore,
A breeze o'er the soft surface fleets,
And the mirror-like beauty is o'er:—
200
Pervading the odorous bow'rs,
Awaken'd the flowr's from their sleep,
And wafted their sweets to be ours.
Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs.
Oh, blame not the change nor the flight
Of our joys as they're passing away,
'Tis the swiftness and change give delight—
They would pall if permitted to stay.
More gaily they glitter in flying,
They perish in lustre still bright,
Like the hues of the dolphin, in dying,
Or the humming-bird's wing in its flight.
Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs.
Of our joys as they're passing away,
'Tis the swiftness and change give delight—
They would pall if permitted to stay.
More gaily they glitter in flying,
They perish in lustre still bright,
Like the hues of the dolphin, in dying,
Or the humming-bird's wing in its flight.
Then yield not, thou sad one, to sighs.
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |