Years, years have flown by, since her spirit departed,
To realms where such spirits are destined to go,
For the good and the faithful, the kind and true hearted,
Can ne'er be intended for torment and woe.
How often through life, when dark clouds have hung o'er me
Those words have brought comfort, and banish'd all pain,
And hope, blessed hope held this promise before me—
'Tis there, dearest Edith, I'll meet thee again.
'Tis there, dearest Edith, I'll meet thee again.
The Scorpion.
[Printed by the kind permission of Robert Paget, Esq., the owner of the copyright.
Once more, once more we're away from the shore,
On the ocean's wild waters to roam,
And gay as a bride doth the Scorpion ride,
As she scuds through the dancing foam.
With a captain and crew, as daring and true
As e'er were afloat on the sea,
The saucy old jade is pursuing a trade
Only fit for the dauntless and free.
And now on the chase we are gaining apace,
Quick! on toward our victim we go;
Down, down from its height comes the streamer white,
And the blood-red flag we show!
