The moon look'd down on golden spires, As if to give a greeting; One would have thought, amid the show, 'Twas Pleasure's natal meeting.
Yet there, within that hall, that night I saw the discontented; I saw pale faces mark'd with care, Like spirits unrepented.
I gazed upon the princely hall Where wealth had blown her bubble, And wonder'd how, amid such show, There could be aught of trouble.
And thus, I said, amid Life's glare-- Amid this world of hurry-- 'Tis true that "tongues we find in trees, And sermons in the quarry!"
Our life is like yon little stream, Where ripples are retreating; And Pleasure, though array'd in smiles, Hath spots where Care is eating.
Our life is like a summer stream That lulls us into slumber; We dream we're happy for a while, While waves in countless number,
Though gentle in their ceaseless flow, Are every day and morrow, Still chafing in the shores of Life Some secret marks of sorrow!
BRIGHT flowers for her I love Yes, flowers rich and rare, The rose-bud and the violet To grace her golden hair; Yet nature's gems--though beautiful And pure and bright they be-- Are not so fair as she I love, Or beautiful to me.
Rare gems for her I love! All sparkling in their light, A diadem to grace that brow So beautifully bright; Yet earthly crowns must fade-- Immortal crowns above Alone are worthy to be sought By her I fondly love.
Music for her I love! Melodiously low, Breathed soft from harps whose golden strings With songs of rapture glow; Such music as the angels make In worlds of light above-- Such music would I have to cheer The heart of her I love.
And peace for her I love! The peace religion brings, Renouncing fleeting, transient joys For bright and heavenly things; Let happiness be hers, And heaven her rest above; May this, my prayer, accepted rise For her I truly love.
THOUGH thou art dying, yet I may not weep Such grief I leave to those who part for years; _We_ only part for days; it may be--hours; We have no need of tears.
Ere thy last kiss is cold upon my lips, Thy dying clasp is loosened from my hand; I will be with thee--thou but goest before Into the better land.
When thou hast reached Heav'n's golden portal, pause And cast one look adown Death's shadowy road; I will be near, nor tremble as I walk The road thou first hast trod.