We, who the wide world make our home;
The barren heath our cheerful bed;
Careless o'er mount and moor we roam,
And never tears of sorrow shed.
But merrily, O! Merrily, O!
Through this world of care we go.
Love, that a palace left in tears,
Flew to our houseless feast of mirth:
For here, unfetter'd, beauty cheers,
The heaven alone that's found on earth!
Then merrily, O! Merrily, O!
Through this world of care we go.
SONNET.
THE BEGGAR.
Of late I saw him on his staff reclined,
Bow'd down beneath a weary weight of woes,
Without a roof to shelter from the wind
His head, all hoar with many a winter's snows.
All trembling he approach'd, he strove to speak;
The voice of misery scarce my ear assail'd;
A flood of sorrow swept his furrow'd cheek,
Remembrance check'd him, and his utt'rance fail'd.
For he had known full many a better day;
And when the poor man at his threshold bent,
He drove him not with aching heart away,
But freely shared what Providence had sent.
How hard for him, the stranger's boon to crave,
And live to want the mite his bounty gave!
TO ———.
Come, JENNY, let me sip the dew
That on those coral lips doth play,
One kiss would every care subdue,
And bid my weary soul be gay.
For surely thou wert form'd by love
To bless the suff'rer's parting sigh;
In pity then my griefs remove,
And on that bosom let me die!