Be still my heart. I hear them come,
Those sounds that speak my soldier near;
Those joyous steps seem winged fox home.—
Rest, rest, he'll soon be here.
But hark, more faint the footsteps grow,
And now they wind to distant glades;
Not here their home,—alas, they go
To gladden happier maids!
Like sounds in a dream,
The footsteps seem,
As down the hills they die away;
And the march, whose song
So pealed along,
Now fades like a funeral lay.
'Tis past, 'tis o'er,—hush, heart, thy pain!
And tho' not here, alas, they come,
Rejoice for those, to whom that strain
Brings sons and lovers home.
WAKE UP, SWEET MELODY.
Wake up, sweet melody!
Now is the hour
When young and loving hearts
Feel most thy power,
One note of music, by moonlight's soft ray—
Oh, 'tis worth thousands heard coldly by day.
Then wake up, sweet melody!
Now is the hour
When young and loving hearts
Feel most thy power.
Ask the fond nightingale,
When his sweet flower
Loves most to hear his song,
In her green bower?
Oh, he will tell thee, thro' summer-nights long,
Fondest she lends her whole soul to his song.
Then wake up, sweet melody!
Now is the hour
When young and loving hearts
Feel most thy power.
CALM BE THY SLEEP.
Calm be thy sleep as infant's slumbers!
Pure as angel thoughts thy dreams!
May every joy this bright world numbers
Shed o'er thee their mingled beams!
Or if, where Pleasure's wing hath glided,
There ever must some pang remain,
Still be thy lot with me divided,—
Thine all the bliss and mine the pain!
Day and night my thoughts shall hover
Round thy steps where'er they stray;
As, even when clouds his idol cover,
Fondly the Persian tracks its ray.
If this be wrong, if Heaven offended
By worship to its creature be,
Then let my vows to both be blended,
Half breathed to Heaven and half to thee.