132
POEMS.
Over the lofty mountain,
Over the forest lone,
By the side of the gushing fountain,
We will go, ere the day be done.
Over the forest lone,
By the side of the gushing fountain,
We will go, ere the day be done.
Away! to the troubled ocean,
Where the echoes of thunder roll;
Where the waves, in their wild emotion,
Bring death to the shipwreck'd soul:
Where the echoes of thunder roll;
Where the waves, in their wild emotion,
Bring death to the shipwreck'd soul:
Where the foam of the tempest dashes
O'er the lost, in their lone despair;
And the glare of the lightning flashes—
Let our trackless path be there.
O'er the lost, in their lone despair;
And the glare of the lightning flashes—
Let our trackless path be there.
Then on! to the gliding river,
And over the waving trees;
Where the leaves and the blossoms quiver,
To the sigh of the ev'ning breeze.
And over the waving trees;
Where the leaves and the blossoms quiver,
To the sigh of the ev'ning breeze.
When the bell for the vesper pealing,
Is heard by the waters clear:
And the sound of the night-wind stealing,
Comes over the list'ning ear.
Is heard by the waters clear:
And the sound of the night-wind stealing,
Comes over the list'ning ear.
Away! ere the daylight closes,
Ere rises the evening star;
Ere the sunset hath tinged the roses.
Away! to our homes afar!
Ere rises the evening star;
Ere the sunset hath tinged the roses.
Away! to our homes afar!
