Nor the glare of the busy day,
Nor the many cares of the world, from thee
Ever lure my thoughts away.
In dreams thou art by my side,
With thy babe, a rose unblown,
And thy voice for me breathes melody,
My loved—my own!
The page of the laureled bard
Thrills me not, since thou art gone;
And from earth below, and the sky above