Emigration & farewells
Meeting of the waters
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The Meeting of the
WATERS.
Air—"The head of old Dennis."
There is not in the wide world, a valley so sweet,
As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet,
Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart.
Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my
heart.
Ere the bloom, &c.
Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene,
Her purest of crystal and brightest of green ;
'Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill,
Oh ! no—it was something more exquisite still.
Oh ! no, &c.
'Twas the friends, the belov'd of my bosom were
near,
Who made each dear scene of enchantment more
dear,
A who felt how the blest charms of nature improve
When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
When we see, &c.
Sweet vale of Ovoca ! how calm could I rest,
In thy bosom of shade with the friends I love best ;
Where the storms which we feel in this cold world
should cease,
And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in
peace.
And our hearts, &c.
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