 |
|
|
 |
| 2. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | SUNRISE THOUGHTS AT THE CLOSE OF A BALL. The complete works of N.P. Willis |  |
SUNRISE THOUGHTS AT THE CLOSE OF A BALL.
Morn in the East! How coldly fair
It breaks upon my fevered eye!
How chides the calm and dewy air!
How chides the pure and pearly sky!
The stars melt in a brighter fire —
The dew, in sunshine, leaves the flowers —
They, from their watch, in light retire,
While we, in sadness, pass from ours.
I turn from the rebuking morn —
The cold gray sky, a fading star —
And listen to the harp and horn,
And see the waltzers near and far —
The lamps and flowers are bright as yet,
And lips beneath more bright than they —
How can a scene so fair beget
The mournful thoughts we bear away!
'Tis something that thou art not here
Sweet lover of my lightest word!
'Tis something that my mother's tear
By these forgetful hours is stirred!
But I have long a loiterer been
In haunts where joy is said to be,
And though wifh Peace I enter in,
The nymph comes never forth with me.
It breaks upon my fevered eye!
How chides the calm and dewy air!
How chides the pure and pearly sky!
The stars melt in a brighter fire —
The dew, in sunshine, leaves the flowers —
They, from their watch, in light retire,
While we, in sadness, pass from ours.
I turn from the rebuking morn —
The cold gray sky, a fading star —
And listen to the harp and horn,
And see the waltzers near and far —
The lamps and flowers are bright as yet,
And lips beneath more bright than they —
How can a scene so fair beget
The mournful thoughts we bear away!
'Tis something that thou art not here
Sweet lover of my lightest word!
'Tis something that my mother's tear
By these forgetful hours is stirred!
But I have long a loiterer been
In haunts where joy is said to be,
And though wifh Peace I enter in,
The nymph comes never forth with me.
| SUNRISE THOUGHTS AT THE CLOSE OF A BALL. The complete works of N.P. Willis | |