This song that I sing-- It is not of a spring, Nor yet of a silvery stream-- But of a vision bright Which came last night In the garb of a blissful dream-- When I thought, as I lay,...
In reel, in waltz, in lancer's maze, She moved with pretty air of grace, And all the ball-room's brilliant blaze Seemed borrowed brightness from her face! O, winsome maid, demure and sweet!...
Oh, for a deep-shaded spot where the shadows cool Are hid from the rays of the glaring sun, And the sparkling waters from a limped pool O'er the gleaming pebbles in ripples run!
I wouldn't mind the weather much--I'd sizzle and I'd stew, And do the very best I could the heat to struggle through, If I could find some way, you know, the feller to eschew,...
Sweet Memory! thou faculty divine-- Triumphant o'er the cruel hand of Time! On thy tablets we may trace The lines his fingers ne'er efface, And take with us till latest day...
I can see the back-log blazing and the sparkles take their flight Up the cavernous old chimney on a merry Christmas night; I can see the old folks smiling and the children's cheeks aglow,...