But 'tis his joy most sweet,
At early dawn to trace
The print of Beauty's feet,
And give the trembler chase.
And if, thro' virgin snow,
He tracks her footsteps fair,
How sweet for Love to know
None went before him there.
COME, CHASE THAT STARTING TEAR AWAY.
(FRENCH AIR.)
Come, chase that starting tear away,
Ere mine to meet it springs;
To-night, at least, to-night be gay,
Whate'er to-morrow brings.
Like sunset gleams, that linger late
When all is darkening fast,
Are hours like these we snatch from Fate—
The brightest, and the last.
Then, chase that starting tear, etc.
To gild the deepening gloom, if Heaven
But one bright hour allow,
Oh, think that one bright hour is given,
In all its splendor, now.
Let's live it out—then sink in night,
Like waves that from the shore
One minute swell, are touched with light,
Then lost for evermore!
Come, chase that starting tear, etc.
JOYS OF YOUTH, HOW FLEETING!
(PORTUGUESE AIR.)
Whisperings, heard by wakeful maids,
To whom the night-stars guide us;
Stolen walks thro' moonlight shades,
With those we love beside us,
Hearts beating,
At meeting;
Tears starting,
At parting;
Oh, sweet youth, how soon it fades!
Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting!
Wanderings far away from home,
With life all new before us;
Greetings warm, when home we come,
From hearts whose prayers watched o'er us.
Tears starting,
At parting;
Hearts beating,
At meeting;
Oh, sweet youth, how lost on some!
To some, how bright and fleeting!