Lord! let thy rays thus pierce, illume Each dim recess within my heart; From its deep darkness chase all gloom, And to its weakness strength impart.
Thus let thy light upon me rise, Here let my home for ever be; Far above earth, its toys and ties, Yet humbly kneeling, Lord, to thee!
SONG.
BY J. R. DRAKE.
Ob: 1820, æt. 25.
Nay, think not, dear Lais, I feel a regret That another awakened thy sigh, Or repine that some traces remain of it yet In the beam of that eloquent eye.
Though the light of its smile on a rival had shone Ere it taught me the way to adore, Shall I scorn the bright gem now I know it my own, Because it was polished before?
And though oft the rich sweets of that lip hath been won, It but fits it the better for bliss; As fruit, when caressed by the bright glowing sun, Grows ripe from the warmth of his kiss.