 | Poems and Lancashire Songs |  |
70
GLAD WELCOME TO MORN'S DEWY HOURS.
I
Glad welcome to morn's dewy hoursThe birds warble blithe to the gale,
While the sun shimmers through the green bowers,
And plays with the stream in the vale;
But, as clouds o'er the heavens come streaming,
Then silence, with shade, creeps along:
They pass,—and again the woods, gleaming,
At once wake to sunlight and song.
II
So I sport, till the storm gathers o'er me;Then, pensively hushed in the gloom,
71
For something the shade to illume;
Yet though, folding the wings of my gladness,
I'm mute in the hurricane's howl,
Thou com'st, through the gloomiest sadness,
A sunbeam of joy to my soul.
III
Fair star of remembrance, endearing,Still lend me thy brilliant ray,
My wanderings chastening and cheering,
Till life, with its light, fade away;
And, oft as my pathway thou greetest,
I'll waken my harp-string to thee,
And sing how the brightest and sweetest
Are always the swiftest to flee.
| Poems and Lancashire Songs | |