 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
TO ---.
There's a cloud on the mountain, a mist on the lake,—
Is not this a warning the storm soon will break?
Though the sun on the meadows is still shining clear,
Yet the wild winds are sighing, the tempest is near.
Is not this a warning the storm soon will break?
Though the sun on the meadows is still shining clear,
Yet the wild winds are sighing, the tempest is near.
There's a shade on thy brow, and a tear in thine eye,
Seen through the long lashes that over it lie;
And though on thy lip is the bright beaming smile,
Yet sad thoughts are hid in thy bosom the while.
Seen through the long lashes that over it lie;
And though on thy lip is the bright beaming smile,
Yet sad thoughts are hid in thy bosom the while.
The sun's brilliant beams have dispersed the dark cloud,
And no longer the mist the lake's bosom doth shroud;
O, thus let the smile on thy lip ever glow,
Till its brightness has driven the shade from thy brow.
And no longer the mist the lake's bosom doth shroud;
O, thus let the smile on thy lip ever glow,
Till its brightness has driven the shade from thy brow.
Aye, changes may pass over nature's sweet face,
And smiles may the gloom of the countenance chase;
But when sorrow has long made its home in the heart,
O, where is the light that can bid it depart?
And smiles may the gloom of the countenance chase;
But when sorrow has long made its home in the heart,
O, where is the light that can bid it depart?
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |