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STORIES OF
" Ever of thee I'm fondly dreaming,
Thy gentle voice my spirit can cheer; Thou wert the star, that mildly beaming,
Shone o' er my path when all was dark and drear. Stall m my breast thy form I cherish,
Ev'ry land thought like a bird flies to thee ; Ah ! never till life and mem' ry perish,
Can I forget how dear thou art to me Morn, noon, and night, where' er I may be, Fondly I'm dreaming, ever of thee.
" Ever of thee, when sad and lonely,
Wand' ring afar my soul joy' d to dwell; Ah, then I felt I lov' d thee only,
All seem' d to fade before affection's spell. Years have not chill' d the love I chensh,
True as the stars hath my heart been to thee ; Ah, never till life and mem'ry pensh,
Can I forget how dear thou art to me."
It is almost equal, perhaps, to some of the drawing-room songs of the present day. |
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