 | Poems |  |
165
TO L---.
Those pleasant hours—how quick they fled!
But 'twas a happy day,
And on my soul a light hath shed,
That may not pass away.
But 'twas a happy day,
And on my soul a light hath shed,
That may not pass away.
'Twas sweet to feel the autumn breeze,
That cooled each burning brow—
And hear its music in the trees,
From every murmuring bough.
That cooled each burning brow—
And hear its music in the trees,
From every murmuring bough.
'Twas sweet to hear the wild-birds' lay,
The merry laugh that rung
From hearts as innocent as they—
Those dark old woods among.
The merry laugh that rung
From hearts as innocent as they—
Those dark old woods among.
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And sweet to see the sunlight warm—
Yet sweeter far to see
The gentle and beloved form
That wandered there with me.
Yet sweeter far to see
The gentle and beloved form
That wandered there with me.
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