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Her favourite birds, in feeble notes
Lament thy long delay,
To charm thy blasts away.
Release the struggling year ;
Arise, and disappear.
Are lost in warmer rays;
Unrolls celestial days.
Still flags thy frozen wing?
And yield the year to Spring !
ROUND Love's Elysian bowers
The fairest prospects rise ; There bloom the sweetest flowers,
There shine the purest skies; And joy and rapture gild awhile The cloudless heaven of Beauty's smile.
Round Love's deserted bowers
Tremendous rocks arise ;
Tornadoes rend the skies ;
Then youth, thou fond believer !
The wily siren shun :
Will surely be undone !
A SONG. ALTERED FROM A GERMAN AIR, IN THE OPERA OR
“DIE ZAUBERFLOTE." SET TO MUSIC BY MOZART.
A CARELESS whistling lad am I,
The thrush and linnet in the vale,
When all were mine-among the rest,
WRITTEN FOR A CONVIVIAL SOCIETY, WHOSE MOTTO WAS
FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH."
WHEN “Friendship, Love, and Truth” abound
Among a band of brothers,
Sweet roses grace the thorny way
Along this vale of sorrow :
Shall bloom again to-morrow :
On halcyon wings our moments pass,
Life's cruel cares beguiling ;
In gay good humour smiling :
His reverend front adorning,
Night softened into morning !
From these delightful fountains flow
Ambrosial rills of pleasure :--
A more resplendent treasure ?
We'll form a constellation,
Shall gild his proper station.
SWEET the hour of tribulation
When the heart can freely sigh ; And the tear of resignation
Twinkles in the mournful eye.
Have you felt a kind emotion
Tremble through your troubled breast, Soft as Evening o'er the ocean, When she charms the waves to rest ?
Have you lost a friend, a brother?
Heard a father's parting breath? Gazed upon a lifelessmother,
Till she seemed to wake from death?
Have you felt a spouse expiring
In your arms before your view ? Watched the lovely soul retiring
From her eyes that broke on you ?
Did not grief then grow romantic,
Raving on remembered bliss ? Did you not, with fervour frantic,
Kiss the lips that felt no kiss ?
Yes! but when you had resigned her,
Life and you were reconciled ; Anna left-she left behind her
One, one dear, one only child.
But before the green moss peeping,
His poor mother's grave arrayed, In that grave the infant sleeping
On the mother's lap was laid.
Horror then, your heart congealing,
Chilled you with intense despair ; Can you call to mind the feeling ?
No! there was no feeling there !
From that gloomy trance of sorrow,
When you woke to pangs unknown, How unwelcome was the morrow!
For it rose on you alone.
Sunk in self-consuming anguish,
Can the poor heart always ache? No, the tortured nerve will languish,
Or the strings of life must break.
O’er the yielding brow of Sadness
One faint smile of comfort stole; One soft pang of tender gladness Exquisitely thrilled your soul.
While the wounds of woe are healing,
While the heart is all resigned, 'Tis the solemn feast of feeling,
'Tis the Sabbath of the mind.
Pensive memory then retraces
Scenes of bliss for ever fled, Lives in former times and places,
Holds communion with the dead.
And when night's prophetic slumbers
Rend the veil to mortal eyes, From their tombs the sainted numbers
Of our lost companions rise.
You have seen a friend, a brother,
Heard a dear dead father speak; Proved the fondness of a mother, Felt her tears upon your cheek!
Dreams of love your grief beguiling,
You have clasped a consort's charms, And received your infant smiling
From his mother's sacred arms.
Trembling, pale, and agonizing,
While you mourned the vision gone, Bright the morning star arising
Opened heaven, from whence it shone.
Thither all your wishes bending,
Rose in ecstacy sublime ; Thither all your hopes ascending,
Triumphed over death and time.
Thus afflicted, bruised, and broken,
Have you known such sweet relief? Yes, my friend ; and, by this token,
You have felt "THE JOY OF GRIEF"