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moonlight.
And memory's secret, treasured store,—
Records the lips can never tell,—
Of cherished joys, and sorrows o'er,
All waken at thy magic spell.
Records the lips can never tell,—
Of cherished joys, and sorrows o'er,
All waken at thy magic spell.
My heart like thee, is calm and bright,
While on they rush, an endless crowd,
Sheds, as they pass, a softened light;
Then, brightening, rises o'er the cloud.
While on they rush, an endless crowd,
Sheds, as they pass, a softened light;
Then, brightening, rises o'er the cloud.
