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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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