4
flew to the pleasant fields, traveled so oft
in life’s morning march, when my bosom was young;
I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,
and well knew the strain that the corn-reapers sung.
Then pledg’d we the wine cup, & fondly we swore,
from my home and my weeping friends never to part;
My little ones kiss’d me a hundred times o’er,
and my wife sobb’d aloud in the fulness of heart.
Stay, stay with us, rest, thou art weary and worn,
and fain was the war-broken soldier to stay;
But sorrow return’d with the dawning of morn,
and the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
EDWARD AND MARY.
Deep in a vale a cottage stood,
oft sought by travellers weary;
And long it prov’d the blest abode
of Edward and of Mary.
For her be chac’d the mountain goat,
o’er Alps and glaciers bounding;
For her the chamois he would shoot,
dark horrors all surrounding.
