Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

261
And wave around my brain a spell,
That drowns the struggling word — farewell !
That withering word must come at last !
But memory shall survive its power,
And light, with visions of the past,
The gloom of many a future hour !
And, though I wander far away.
Yet, wheresoe'er my feet may stray,
O, never, never from my heart
The looks and tones it loved shall part ! —
Oft will I turn from darkness nigh,
To catch the smile of days gone by ;
And hallow oft, in future years,
Life's early dream with manhood's tears !
And then, methinks ! with silent track.
My thoughts shall oft go wandering back.
And glide around the dear recess.
Built, as it were, for happiness !
Where, through the clustering vines, the ey(
Looks out upon the moonlight sky,
When the night-spii'it steals to kiss
The bower of silver clematis.
And to the whispering air replies
The jasmine, with its sweetest sighs ;
When, on its wing, the voiceless breeze
Brings fragrance from the orange-trees ;
When the white beams of evening fall
Along the darkly ivied wall,
And his light web the spider weaves
Among the bright acacia leaves ; —
While, heard from some sequestered vale,
Sings to the stars the nightingale !
But, brighter than that witching scene
The little fairy world within ;
Where happy hearts and smiling eyes
Wei^e the pure planets of our skies !