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LINES.
NCE more, mine own beloved, the rayOf Autumn gilds the mellow earth,
And brings to us again the day,
The blessed day, that gave Thee birth.
And though in every leaf I see
The warning hue of Nature's doom,
Yet seems this hour more bright to me,
Than Springtime glow or Summer bloom.
No marvel: Time's swift fleeting wing,
That bears away each circling year,
But seems for us fresh love to bring,—
New cause to make thee doubly dear.
And every pleasure, every pain,
That round our path of life may twine,
But closer binds affection's chain,
And makes thy joys, thy sorrows, mine.
That bears away each circling year,
But seems for us fresh love to bring,—
New cause to make thee doubly dear.
And every pleasure, every pain,
That round our path of life may twine,
But closer binds affection's chain,
And makes thy joys, thy sorrows, mine.
Oh! say, then, can I see the day
That gave Thee birth, return unmoved,
Nor thus for every blessing pray,
To crown the head of one so loved?
That gave Thee birth, return unmoved,
Nor thus for every blessing pray,
To crown the head of one so loved?
