 | Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems |  |
108
SONG OF THE MAIDS OF TEXAS.
Awake, love, awake! for the morning is nigh,
And the sunbeams are bright in the vault of the sky—
The trumpet is heard by the isles of the sea,
Then awake, love, awake! for my soul is with thee!
The roses are wet with the dews of the night,
And the day-dawn is crowning the hills with delight;
The roebucks are making their tracks in the sand,
“And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”
And the sunbeams are bright in the vault of the sky—
The trumpet is heard by the isles of the sea,
Then awake, love, awake! for my soul is with thee!
The roses are wet with the dews of the night,
And the day-dawn is crowning the hills with delight;
The roebucks are making their tracks in the sand,
“And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”
Awake, love, awake! for the dews of the morn
Are dashed from the boughs by the sound of the horn—
The autumn is gone, and the winter is past,
And the ring-doves are heard in the valleys at last;
The rose-buds are bright in the light of the dew,
And the sage-bells are booming with nectar for you;
The cymbal-bee drinks from the chalice at hand,
“And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”
Are dashed from the boughs by the sound of the horn—
The autumn is gone, and the winter is past,
And the ring-doves are heard in the valleys at last;
The rose-buds are bright in the light of the dew,
And the sage-bells are booming with nectar for you;
The cymbal-bee drinks from the chalice at hand,
“And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”
Awake, love, awake! for the young fawns are nigh,
And the last star is gone from its home in the sky—
The lily-bells shine in the valleys below,
And the sweet-william shakes by the foot of the roe;
The snow-pigeon hies from the hill-tops to feed,
And the blackbirds are singing their songs in the mead—
Awake, love, awake! for my heart and my hand,
“For the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”
And the last star is gone from its home in the sky—
The lily-bells shine in the valleys below,
And the sweet-william shakes by the foot of the roe;
The snow-pigeon hies from the hill-tops to feed,
And the blackbirds are singing their songs in the mead—
Awake, love, awake! for my heart and my hand,
“For the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.”
| Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems | |