 | Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems |  |
STANZAS FOR MUSIC.
Oh! when we remember, with painful delight,
The days that were brightest are gone,
And look back again unto scenes that were bright,
As one that must linger alone;
We think how we garnered those treasures of love,
When days that we valued were bright,
As tones softly borne far away from the dove,
And seek them again with delight.
The days that were brightest are gone,
And look back again unto scenes that were bright,
As one that must linger alone;
We think how we garnered those treasures of love,
When days that we valued were bright,
As tones softly borne far away from the dove,
And seek them again with delight.
The bright crystal waters whose gushings were first
The soft tones that startled my ear,
Are borne far away from the place where they burst,
And no one remains now to hear!
And while we remember how often we met
In dews that were sent from on high,
As one that resumes her again, with regret,
The soft harp that caused her to sigh;
The soft tones that startled my ear,
Are borne far away from the place where they burst,
And no one remains now to hear!
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In dews that were sent from on high,
As one that resumes her again, with regret,
The soft harp that caused her to sigh;
We feel that existence belongs to the past,
And cling unto hopes that remain;
And mend every harp-string, though breaking as fast,
But never shall strike them again!
And thus, only left with affection, forlorn,
We sigh all alone like the dove
That hastens away from her nest but to mourn,
And die for the loss of her love!
And cling unto hopes that remain;
And mend every harp-string, though breaking as fast,
But never shall strike them again!
And thus, only left with affection, forlorn,
We sigh all alone like the dove
That hastens away from her nest but to mourn,
And die for the loss of her love!
| Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems | |