No More.
45
So to the stranger speak kind words of cheer,
For thou a wanderer yet may be;
Sealed is the future, and this life at best is drear;
Darker woes than hers may come to thee.
And souls that yearn in vain for some kind words of love
In splendor's throng desolate would be.
No balm, no costly gifts to weeping minds can prove
As sweet a solace as charity.
For thou a wanderer yet may be;
Sealed is the future, and this life at best is drear;
Darker woes than hers may come to thee.
And souls that yearn in vain for some kind words of love
In splendor's throng desolate would be.
No balm, no costly gifts to weeping minds can prove
As sweet a solace as charity.
NO MORE.
From the hillside and through the glen,
Resounds this mournful sigh:
No more will be what once has been,
For winter days are nigh.
The youth that danced 'neath summer skies
Now bears the weight of years,
The splendor of his dark blue eyes
Is dimmed with briny tears.
Resounds this mournful sigh:
No more will be what once has been,
For winter days are nigh.
The youth that danced 'neath summer skies
Now bears the weight of years,
The splendor of his dark blue eyes
Is dimmed with briny tears.
And through fair music's sweetest strain,
Sad discord of "no more"
Orates on the ear, but all in vain
Life's golden hours arc o'er.
No more! the autumn's chilling blast
Speaks to the flowers fair,
No more! the brooks lisp as they pass,
No more! chirp birds in air.
Sad discord of "no more"
Orates on the ear, but all in vain
Life's golden hours arc o'er.
No more! the autumn's chilling blast
Speaks to the flowers fair,
No more! the brooks lisp as they pass,
No more! chirp birds in air.
