. Ballads of life. e the sleeping blossoms of many a sunny May;And out across the meadow-land our feet so oft have pressed,The ivy creeps above your head> no storm disturbs your rest;While distant bowers grow still and lone, for swallows on the oer the dreary hills* appear the gentle dawning spring. The tide of years, my darling, ebbs silently and fast; It floweth on to meet the sea, so dark, so deep and vast; Its song falls gently on my ear across the winters snow. And wakes the days that sleep for aye, the sunny long ago. My heart forgets the monody by saddened memory sung Oer bu
. Ballads of life. e the sleeping blossoms of many a sunny May;And out across the meadow-land our feet so oft have pressed,The ivy creeps above your head> no storm disturbs your rest;While distant bowers grow still and lone, for swallows on the oer the dreary hills* appear the gentle dawning spring. The tide of years, my darling, ebbs silently and fast; It floweth on to meet the sea, so dark, so deep and vast; Its song falls gently on my ear across the winters snow. And wakes the days that sleep for aye, the sunny long ago. My heart forgets the monody by saddened memory sung Oer buried fancies of a life no longer fair and young. The breeze that wakes the snow drop from sleep within the wold, Brings sweet perfume from flowers that grew in sunny fields of old. The flowers that died, my darling, will raise their heads again,Where drifts the golden sunshine across the weary pleasant, dreamy days will come with roses newly sweet and fair as those we knew in happy summers But dearer far, my darlintj, than all things else can be,The hope that we shall meet again when I have crossed lifes sea;No wish of mine would wake jou from rest so calm and deep,No yearning break your sweet repose in peaceful, dreamless sleep. SONGS OF HOPE AND MEMORY. 79 But dearer far, my darling, than all things else can be,The hope that we shall meet again when I have crossed lifes sea;No wish of mine would wake you from rest so calm and deep,No yearning break your sweet repose in peaceful, dreamless sleep. THE INCARNATION. * Hail to the night when erst on Judahs plain,A glittering host proclaimed a Savior come; Not in the gorgeous pomp of kingly train, But meekly to this wr-rld of sin and gloom; Not in Thy dread omnipotent array, No indignation burned before Thee on Thy way. For Thou wast born of Avoman meek and mild,And in the manger rude was laid to rest; Earth had no place for Thee, O Heavenly Child,Though earth by Thee alone was truly blest. Angels, not me
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