 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
SWEET REMEMBRANCE.
O lovely is yon sunset sky
As fades the dying day,
And tranquil are the rippling waves
That in its glory play;
A woodland odor fills the breeze,
And bloom is on the bough,
But where, 'mid all this outward joy,
Are the hopes of childhood now?
As fades the dying day,
And tranquil are the rippling waves
That in its glory play;
A woodland odor fills the breeze,
And bloom is on the bough,
But where, 'mid all this outward joy,
Are the hopes of childhood now?
The voice of song is breathing round
When summer zephyrs sigh,
And rippling waves in music wake
Upon the shore to die!
A thousand symphonies are heard
Amid spring's rosy bowers,
But we miss the music of the heart
That charmed our early hours.
When summer zephyrs sigh,
And rippling waves in music wake
Upon the shore to die!
A thousand symphonies are heard
Amid spring's rosy bowers,
But we miss the music of the heart
That charmed our early hours.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |