 | Songs of a Stranger |  |
74
SONG.
When all has faded into rest,
And mournful love is waking only—
When moonlight on the lake's wide breast
Is gleaming fair and lonely;
There is a spirit hovers near,
And round thee in each breeze is sighing:
But ah! the sigh thou wilt not hear
Is in cold echo dying!
And mournful love is waking only—
When moonlight on the lake's wide breast
Is gleaming fair and lonely;
There is a spirit hovers near,
And round thee in each breeze is sighing:
But ah! the sigh thou wilt not hear
Is in cold echo dying!
The brightest star that glows above
Throws its pure lustre o'er thy dwelling;
A tale of beauty and of love
Its soft clear ray is telling.—
Thine eye is full as soft and bright,
Unwary souls of peace bereaving;
But 'tis a false, uncertain light,
That beams but in deceiving.
Throws its pure lustre o'er thy dwelling;
A tale of beauty and of love
Its soft clear ray is telling.—
Thine eye is full as soft and bright,
Unwary souls of peace bereaving;
But 'tis a false, uncertain light,
That beams but in deceiving.
| Songs of a Stranger | |