The Orphans.
29
And then the moor a garden seemed,
The snow in flowers fell;
There was no moon,—but perfect day
Shone on our pathway still.
The snow in flowers fell;
There was no moon,—but perfect day
Shone on our pathway still.
Again you turned and said, Maggie,
Look, little sister, look,
Far, far across the dreary moor,
The poplars and the brook."
Look, little sister, look,
Far, far across the dreary moor,
The poplars and the brook."
Mine eyes were wet with tears, Maggie,
Though beautiful it seemed,
I could not see all you discerned,
Alas! I only dreamed.
Though beautiful it seemed,
I could not see all you discerned,
Alas! I only dreamed.
"The moor is cold and bleak, Maggie,
No moon is in the sky,
We are sitting at our mother's grave,
And wishing we might die,
No moon is in the sky,
We are sitting at our mother's grave,
And wishing we might die,
To get across life's dreary moor,
That angel face to kiss;
O! 'tis very bard. to live, Maggie,
After a dream like this!
That angel face to kiss;
O! 'tis very bard. to live, Maggie,
After a dream like this!
Chamounix, 1861.
