Rest awhile with me.
[From a small tract entitled, "Love: by J. C. Denovan:" Printed for the author at Edinburgh in 1826. Denovan was the son of a printer in Edinburgh, where he was born in 1798. Some years of his early life were spent at sea, but latterly he supported himself by a small business of his own, in his native city, as a coffee-roaster. He died in 1827.]
The lark hath sought his grassy home,
The bee her eglantine;
The silver lamps, in yon blue dome,
Have just begun to shine;
Then rest awhile with me, love, with me, love,
Then rest awhile with me, love,
This breast will pillow thine.
The breeze that steals so softly by
Hath caught the rose's kiss:
The tear that wets the Uly's eye
Is but a drop of bliss.
Then rest awhile with me, love, with me, love,
Then rest awhile with me, love,
Home ne'er had charms like this.