Songs of a Stranger | ||
75
SONG.
Swiftly o'er the green sea sailing,
Glides my bark to yonder shore;
Soon its flow'ry valleys hailing,
Winds and waves I'll heed no more.
Where the freshest breeze is swelling,
Over flowers most sweet and fair,
Gleams afar my little dwelling—
Ah! how soon my soul is there!
Glides my bark to yonder shore;
Soon its flow'ry valleys hailing,
Winds and waves I'll heed no more.
Where the freshest breeze is swelling,
Over flowers most sweet and fair,
Gleams afar my little dwelling—
Ah! how soon my soul is there!
With the verdant margin blending,
Sighing low the waters lave;
And the rose, in fondness bending,
Blushes in the lucid wave:
Music's melting notes are stealing
O'er the pure and perfum'd air,
All those long lost scenes revealing—
Ah! how soon my soul is there!
Sighing low the waters lave;
And the rose, in fondness bending,
Blushes in the lucid wave:
Music's melting notes are stealing
O'er the pure and perfum'd air,
All those long lost scenes revealing—
Ah! how soon my soul is there!
Songs of a Stranger | ||