 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
THE ROAD OF LIFE;
OR, SONG OF THE IRISH POST-BOY.
Oh! youth, happy youth! what a blessing!
In thy freshness of dawn and of dew;
When hope, the young heart is caressing,
And our griefs are but light and but few:
Yet in life, as it swiftly flies o'er us,
Some musing for sadness we find;
In youth—we've our troubles before us,
In age—we leave pleasure behind.
In thy freshness of dawn and of dew;
When hope, the young heart is caressing,
And our griefs are but light and but few:
Yet in life, as it swiftly flies o'er us,
Some musing for sadness we find;
In youth—we've our troubles before us,
In age—we leave pleasure behind.
Aye—Trouble's the post-boy that drives us
Up hill till we get to the top;
While Joy's an old servant behind us
We call on for ever to stop;
“Oh! put on the drag, Joy, my jewel,
As long as the sunset still glows;
Before it is dark 'twould be cruel
To haste to the hill-foot's repose.
Up hill till we get to the top;
While Joy's an old servant behind us
We call on for ever to stop;
“Oh! put on the drag, Joy, my jewel,
As long as the sunset still glows;
Before it is dark 'twould be cruel
To haste to the hill-foot's repose.
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But there stands an inn we must stop at,
An extinguisher swings for the sign;
That house is but cold and but narrow—
But the prospect beyond it—divine!
And there—whence there's never returning,
When we travel—as travel we must—
May the gates be all free for our journey!
And the tears of our friends lay the dust!
An extinguisher swings for the sign;
That house is but cold and but narrow—
But the prospect beyond it—divine!
And there—whence there's never returning,
When we travel—as travel we must—
May the gates be all free for our journey!
And the tears of our friends lay the dust!
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |