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Songs and ballads

By Charles Swain
Swain, Charles (1801-1874)
 
[dedication]

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[Thou that flingest back the portal]
 
TO THE LARK.
 
TRIPPING DOWN THE FIELD-PATH.
 
HOME AND FRIENDS.
 
THE LAST MEETING.
 
SMILE AND NEVER HEED ME.
 
THE THREE CALLERS.
 
LOVE'S TRIALS.
 
BE KIND TO EACH OTHER.
 
I WAITED TILL THE TWILIGHT.
 
THE COTTAGE DOOR.
 
LET US LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
 
THE OLD COTTAGE CLOCK.
 
ALADDIN'S LAMP.
 
IMAGINARY EVILS.
 
MORNING.
 
KEEP THE HEART LIGHT AS YOU CAN.
 
YESTERDAY AND TO-MORROW.
 
GIVE ME THE PEOPLE.
 
WHERE DWELLS THE FAIRY QUEEN?
 
PASSING THY DOOR.
 
SONG AND SUMMER.
 
HO! BREAKERS ON THE WEATHER BOW.
 
WHEN THE HEART IS YOUNG.
 
PROCRASTINATION.
 
THE HUSBAND'S SONG.
 
THE ORPHAN BOY.
 
OH! WHAT A WORLD IT MIGHT BE!
 
DO A GOOD TURN WHEN YOU CAN.
 
'T WAS ON A SUNDAY MORNING.
 
TO THE SEA-NYMPH.
 
THE SEA-NYMPH'S REPLY.
 
THERE'S AN HOUR.
 
DISTRESS.
 
THE UNATTAINABLE.
 
IN MY FAIRY GARDEN.
 
THE BUCCANEER'S SONG.
 
LOVE'S HISTORY.
 
A FOOT UPON THE STEP.
 
THE HUNTING MORN.
 
THE MEADOW GATE.
 
A WORD OF THINE.
 
THE OLD EVENINGS.
 
BETTER THAN BEAUTY.
 
NEAR THEE.
 
A SKETCH.
 
FORGIVE AND FORGET.
 
A PALE, PALE CHEEK.
 
HATH THE WORLD.
 
THE LILIES OF THE FIELD.
 
TIME TO ME.
 
THE NIGHT HATH GONE.
 
MAIDEN WORTH.
 
UNKINDNESS.
 
WHEN LIFE HATH SORROW FOUND.
 
LIGHT OF HEART.
 
BEAUTY IS DEAD.
 
NEVER RAIL AT THE WORLD.
 
THE BETROTHED.
 
MORTALITY.
 
THE WAYS OF HEAVEN.
 
'TWAS JUST BEFORE THE HAY WAS MOWN.
 
THE VOICE OF THE MORNING.
 
A MOMENT.
 
MIRTH.
 
GIVE ME A FRESHENING BREEZE.
 
A VIOLET.
 
PAST THE HOUR.
 
THE COTTAGE WINDOW.
 
SPEAK NO ILL.
 
THE CHAMOIS HUNTERS.
 
OPEN HEARTED.
 
THE SAILOR.
 
THERE'S A CHARM.
 
DARKNESS UPON THE SEA.
 
VILLAGE COURTSHIP.
 
THE SHIPS OF ENGLAND.
 
MARY.
 
THE COQUETTE.
 
THE SNOW.
 
LOVE GIFTS.
 
I WILL NOT GIVE MY HEART AWAY.
 
THE BEAUTIFUL DAY.

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45

THE UNATTAINABLE.

Oh! the stars which glow not
Save in fancy's heaven!
Oh! the flowers which grow not—
But in dream-land given!
Oh! the bliss untasted
In this world of sorrow—
Years in visions wasted!
Hopes which have no morrow!
Though the spell be broken,
Yet the spirit straineth;
Something still unspoken
In the heart remaineth:
Glimpses from above,
Impulses ye know not,
In our inner love
Hide themselves, and show not.
Oh! the overflowing
Visions, and their sweetness,
Coming thus, and going
With unheeded fleetness!
Oh! the unrecorded
Music, that is songless;
Sympathies unworded!
Feelings that are tongueless!
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