 | The forest minstrel |  |
144
THE ANGEL OF THE PAST.
When fainting in life's desert way,
The weary heart sits down to rest,
Afflicted, wrung, and desolate,
With bitter ills oppressed;
When cold chill mildews of despair
Upon the lonely spirit creep;
When Hope forgets her ministry,
And turns away to weep;
The weary heart sits down to rest,
Afflicted, wrung, and desolate,
With bitter ills oppressed;
When cold chill mildews of despair
Upon the lonely spirit creep;
When Hope forgets her ministry,
And turns away to weep;
The pale sweet Angel of the Past,
With dewy eye, and drooping mien,
Comes o'er the naked wild to cast
Her tableau vivant scene.
Grouped by her Witch-of-Endor hand,
They come, a fair and smiling train,
From every bright and pleasant land
Through which our path has lain.
With dewy eye, and drooping mien,
Comes o'er the naked wild to cast
Her tableau vivant scene.
Grouped by her Witch-of-Endor hand,
They come, a fair and smiling train,
From every bright and pleasant land
Through which our path has lain.
Memories from Friendship's blessed vale,
Proffer again the dear caress;
But in the background stand Deceit,
Or cold Forgetfulness.
Shadows from Love's delightful bowers,
With red-rose wreaths and golden lyres,
Present their precious offerings,
And touch their altar fires.
Proffer again the dear caress;
But in the background stand Deceit,
Or cold Forgetfulness.
145
With red-rose wreaths and golden lyres,
Present their precious offerings,
And touch their altar fires.
But Sorrow, with her sable-train,
The coffin, shroud, and rigid clay,
Pass slow before the joyous group;—
We groan, and turn away.
Thus gather all the hopes and joys,
That dazzled and deceived our youth;
But now upon them, cold and clear,
Lies the stern light of Truth.
The coffin, shroud, and rigid clay,
Pass slow before the joyous group;—
We groan, and turn away.
Thus gather all the hopes and joys,
That dazzled and deceived our youth;
But now upon them, cold and clear,
Lies the stern light of Truth.
At length appears a radiant train,—
Memories of childhood pure and sweet;
On brow and breast there is no stain,
No soil upon their feet.
They seek no wealth beyond the flowers
That live beside the valley brook;
That on the mountain make their bowers,
Or in some rocky nook.
Memories of childhood pure and sweet;
On brow and breast there is no stain,
No soil upon their feet.
They seek no wealth beyond the flowers
That live beside the valley brook;
That on the mountain make their bowers,
Or in some rocky nook.
They ask no joys, but such as live
In love around a father's hearth;
They worship only God in heaven,
And mother upon earth.
Their gentle voices are more sweet
Than softest songs of summer birds;
And flattery, sorrow, and deceit
Are never in their words.
In love around a father's hearth;
They worship only God in heaven,
And mother upon earth.
Their gentle voices are more sweet
Than softest songs of summer birds;
And flattery, sorrow, and deceit
Are never in their words.
| The forest minstrel | |