THE MINSTREL AND THE SONG. [Music by F. WALLERSTEIN.
Amid the city's busy throng
I heard the minstrel sing his lay:
But few would listen to his song,
The world, neglectful, turn'd away;
The music floated from the crowd
And mingled with the upper air;
I traced its measure, deep not loud,
And heard it melting sweetly there.
I saw the minstrel turn away,
But more in sorrow than disdain;
Too oft it was his lot to play
The music that he loved in vain.
'Tis thus that all that pleasure gives
Must know neglect, must suffer wrong;
The poet in the future lives,
The minstrel dies, but not the song.
[Music by F. WALLERSTRIN.
One winter morn in careless mood
I turn'd to gaze upon the sky,
But when I by my window stood,
What dreamlike fancies met mine eye?
The glass was changed to fields and trees
With feathery clouds, and waving grain,
And fairy ships on mimic seas;-
It was the frost upon the pane.
I thought, while gazing on the view,
What houseless forms beyond it lay,
And then the sun came shining through,
And soon the scene dissolved away.
"Tis thus in sorrow's darkest hours,
When most we doubt, hope comes again,
And yielding then to brighter powers,
Grief melts like frost upon the pane.
MY SPOUSE NANCY.
[ROBERT BURNS.]
"Husband, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave,
Though I am your wedded wife,
Yet I am not your slave, sir.'
"One of two must still obey,
Nancy, Nancy;
Is it man or woman, say,
My spouse Nancy ?""
"If 'tis still the lordly word,
Service and obedience,
I'll desert my sovereign lord,
And so, good bye, allegiance."
"Sad will I be so bereft,
Nancy, Nancy;
Yet I'll try to make a shift,
My spouse Nancy."
"My poor heart then break it must,
My last hour I'm near it;
When you lay me in the dust,
Think, think, how you will bear it."
"I will hope and trust in heaven,
Nancy, Nancy;
Strength to bear it will be given,
My spouse Nancy."
"Well, sir, from the silent dead
Still I'll try to daunt you;
Ever round your midnight bed
Horrid sprites shall haunt you."
"I'll wed another like my dear
Nancy, Nancy;
Then all hell will fly for fear,
My spouse Nancy."
Not for thee-thou false one, never,
Not for thee these tears that flow,
Anguish though 'twere once to doubt thee,
Not for thee my present woe;
Better, thy false heart revealing,
"Twere to say, at once, we part,
Than to go on still deceiving,
While another claims thy heart.
Not for thee these tears are falling;
Who would what is worthless grieve?
But that in my utter blindness
I could so myself deceive;
Do not deem you have the power
Still to trifle more with me,
Though my heart is wildly beating,
Though I weep-'tis not for thee.
NEVER DESPAIR.
[SAMUEL LOVER.]
Oh, never despair, for our hopes oftentime
Spring swiftly as flow'rs in some tropical clime,
Where the spot that was barren and scentless at night
Is blooming and fragrant at morning's first light;
The mariner marks where the tempest sings loud,
That the rainbow is brighter the darker the cloud,
Then up! up! Never despair!
The leaves which the sibyl presented of old,
Though lessen'd in number, were not worth less gold; And though Fate steal our joys, do not think they're the best,
The few she hath spared may be worth all the rest;
Good-fortune oft comes in adversity's form,
And the rainbow is brightest when darkest the storm.
Then up! up! Never despair!
And when all creation was sunk in the flood,
Sublime o'er the deluge the patriarch stood;
Though destruction around him in thunder was hurl'd,
Undaunted he look'd on the wreck of the world;
For high o'er the ruin hung Hope's blessed form,
The rainbow beamed bright through the gloom of the
storm.
Then up! up! Never despair!
God sent his singers upon earth
With songs of sadness and of mirth,
That they might touch the hearts of men,
And bring them back to heaven again.
The first, a youth with soul of fire,
Held in his hand a golden lyre;
Through groves he wander'd, and by streams,
Playing the music of our dreams.
The second, with a bearded face,
Stood singing in the market-place,
And stirr'd with accents deep and loud
The hearts of all the list'ning crowd.
A grey old man, the third and last,
Sang in cathedrals dim and vast,
While the majestic organ rolled
Contrition from its mouths of gold.
And those who heard the singers three
Disputed which the best might be;
For still their music seem'd to start
Discordant echoes in each heart.
But the great Master said, "I see
No best in kind, but in degree;
I gave a various gift to each,
To charm, to strengthen, and to teach.
"These are the three great chords of night,
And he whose ear is tuned aright
Will hear no discord in the three,
But the most perfect harmony."
We watch'd her breathing through the night,
Her breathing soft and low,
As in her breast the wave of life
Kept heaving to and fro.
So silently we seem'd to speak,
So slowly moved about,
As we had lent her half our powers
To eke her living out.
Our very hopes belied our fears,
Our fears our hopes belied;
We thought her dying when she slept,
And sleeping when she died.
For when the morn came, dim and sad,
And chill with early showers,
or quiet eyelids closed-she had
Another morn than ours.
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