32
POEMS.
O could I claim the monarch's right,
That of creating lords—of men—
With royal favor I 'd requite
His generosity; and then
Proclaim, as if in trumpet-tone,
That every courtier round the throne
Should do him honor, who hath grown
Into my heart, from kindness shown!
That of creating lords—of men—
With royal favor I 'd requite
His generosity; and then
Proclaim, as if in trumpet-tone,
That every courtier round the throne
Should do him honor, who hath grown
Into my heart, from kindness shown!
Song—A Merry Heart.
O a merry heart! it doeth good,
And like a panacea is
Whose properties once understood,
How strange! that anybody should
Disdain this best of remedies.
And like a panacea is
Whose properties once understood,
How strange! that anybody should
Disdain this best of remedies.
For a merry heart, like a medicine,
Relieves distress, and lightens care;
A rift of sunshine that, let in
Where melancholy long hath been,
Will counteract and cheat despair.
Relieves distress, and lightens care;
A rift of sunshine that, let in
Where melancholy long hath been,
Will counteract and cheat despair.
A merry heart and a smiling face
That not a cloud nor frown doth know,
May penetrate some lowly place
Where its serene, reflective grace
Shall make the live-long day aglow.
That not a cloud nor frown doth know,
May penetrate some lowly place
Where its serene, reflective grace
Shall make the live-long day aglow.
