This page has been validated.
I pass by; at thy foot
O mount of my delight,
Ere yet from out thy sight,
I drop my voiceless lute:
Relentless Nemesis my doom hath sent—
This cruel banishment.
THE OLD MAN'S FAVORITE.
Do you ask where she has fled—
Lucy with the laughing eyes?
Should I tell you "she is dead,"
You would mimic tears and sighs,
And pretend a sad surprise.
Lucy with the laughing eyes?
Should I tell you "she is dead,"
You would mimic tears and sighs,
And pretend a sad surprise.
Yesterday when you were here
She was sitting on your knee,
Whispering stories in your ear
With an air of mystery
And a roguish glance at me.
She was sitting on your knee,
Whispering stories in your ear
With an air of mystery
And a roguish glance at me.
Lucy's heart was always light,
Light and free as plumed bird;
When she glanced within our sight,
Or her merry voice we heard,
Music in our hearts was stirred.
Light and free as plumed bird;
When she glanced within our sight,
Or her merry voice we heard,
Music in our hearts was stirred.
29
