The Poetical Works of Robert Story | ||
The Wane of the Day.
1835.
O! the heart is not so light
In the wane of the day,
And the eye is not so bright
In the wane of the day;
The ear hath duller grown
For the swell of music's tone,
And the dance's charm is gone
In the wane of the day!
In the wane of the day,
And the eye is not so bright
In the wane of the day;
The ear hath duller grown
For the swell of music's tone,
And the dance's charm is gone
In the wane of the day!
243
The sweet spring hath its buds
In the wane of the day,
Where the primrose deeks the woods
In the wane of the day;
The mead is flushed with gold,
And the lark is on the wold,
But he sings not as of old—
In the wane of the day!
In the wane of the day,
Where the primrose deeks the woods
In the wane of the day;
The mead is flushed with gold,
And the lark is on the wold,
But he sings not as of old—
In the wane of the day!
Yet I have some ties to life
In the wane of the day;
I've a fair and frugal wife
In the wane of the day;
And when round my evening hearth
Mix my little band in mirth,
I'm the happiest man on earth
In the wane of the day!
In the wane of the day;
I've a fair and frugal wife
In the wane of the day;
And when round my evening hearth
Mix my little band in mirth,
I'm the happiest man on earth
In the wane of the day!
The Poetical Works of Robert Story | ||