 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
48
THE BALM OF THE HEART.
When the mild star of evening invites to the bower,
Where music and mirth are to revel an hour,
Dismiss gloomy care, and bid sorrow depart,
For innocent mirth is the balm of the heart.
Where music and mirth are to revel an hour,
Dismiss gloomy care, and bid sorrow depart,
For innocent mirth is the balm of the heart.
Every pleasure is fleeting, and hastens away,
The fairest blown rose is the first to decay;
Then taste of its fragrance before it depart,
For innocent mirth is the balm of the heart.
The fairest blown rose is the first to decay;
Then taste of its fragrance before it depart,
For innocent mirth is the balm of the heart.
Quickly hasten then hither, ye youth and ye fair,
With eyes beaming pleasure, and hearts void of care;
Partake of the joys which our revels impart,
For innocent mirth is the balm of the heart.
With eyes beaming pleasure, and hearts void of care;
Partake of the joys which our revels impart,
For innocent mirth is the balm of the heart.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |