Love, Thou Gayest Fancy-Weaver.

    Away, away, from the sultry ways
        Where the pleasures fall and fade,
    To the bannered corn and the meadowed bloom
        And the forest's cooling shade!

    Afar, afar, from the rooms of care
        With the toils of life distressed,
    To the grassy hills and the fragrant slopes
        And the quiet vales of rest!

    Away from the weary, dusty town,
        Where the sorrows dim the days,
    To the sleeping lake and the silent stream
        And the wildwood's tangled ways!

    To margins wide of the woodland pools,
        Where the wild birds troll their songs,
    Where the lilies laugh and the willows wave,
        And the pleasures dance in throngs!

    The dark-eyed nymphs and the fairy elves
        In t...

    There is no soul of anguish or repining,
        That doubts and trembles in the shades of gloom,
    But love can lead where softest suns are shining
        And fill his days with beauty and its bloom.
            Live life with love!

    There is no bosom dark with lonely caring,
        That sadly sorrows in the nights of woe,
    But love can soothe his torture and despairing,
        And scatter gladness where his feet may go.
            Live life with love!

    There is no scene of misery or sorrow
        That droops and withers in the dark of night,
    But love can bring fond yearnings for the morrow
        And heap the heart with hope's unfading light.
            Live life with love!

    There is in all the world no sinful creatu...

    Sweet fairies from the isles of song,
        Bewitching choirs from music land,
        The pleasures of your wondrous band
    Once wooed me from the ways of wrong;
    Once won my heart with fond caress
        To sacred vales of summer glees,
        Till carols fraught with lullabies
    Filled all my soul with blessedness!

    My yearnings miss those gentle sprites,
        Whose laughing lips and angel eyes
        And voices ever winsome-wise,
    Bedewed my dreams with new delights;
    For in the sad hours of my pain
        I hold them as I hold the dead,
        And trust that in the vales they tread,
    My hands shall clasp their hands again.

    From those glad meadows where they play
        'Neath lovely sun and gentle sta...

    The gloomy hours of silence wake
        Remembrance and her train,
    And phantoms through the fancies chase
        The mem'ries that remain;
    And hidden in the dark embrace
        Of days that now are gone,
    I see a form, a fairy form,
        And fancy hurries on!

    I see the old familiar smile,
        I hear the tender tone,
    I greet the softness of the glance
        That cheered me when alone;
    The ruby chains of rich romance
        That bound our bosoms o'er,
    I still can know, I still can feel,
        As they were felt before.

    I name the vows, the fresh young vows,
        That we together said;
    What matters it? She can not know;
        She slumbers with the dead!
    Again the fields ...

    O, gentle shade of quiet woods,
        Where nature dwells in leafy halls,
        I love the sacred voice that falls
    In music o'er thy solitudes!
    Within thine arms the weary heart
        Is hidden from the toils of men,
    And pleasure makes ambition start
        Into a nobler life again.

    Among the fragrant shadows throng
        With all the riches of their truth,
        Glad echoes from the days of youth
    And mingle into laughing song;
    While angel fingers touch the keys
        That slumber in the silent breast,
    Till mem'ry wakes her lullabies
        And childhood fancies rock to rest.

    Again the hours of early joy
        Upon the aged years intrude,
        And dance amid the summer wood
    T...

    Angelic theme of ancient lays!
        By Doric hills, Athenian vales,
    The nations bound thy brows with bays
        And fanned thy cheeks with scented gales;
    While golden lamps illumed thy shrines
        Beside the Tiber and the Po,
        Till anthems thine were taught to flow
    Along the Alps and Appenines.

    The souls of sages and of slaves
        Were faithful servants unto thee,
    Whose rapture soothed the Grecian waves,
        And kissed the islands of the sea;
    And bounding on from strand to strand
        It crossed the coasts and climbed the slopes,
        To place a crown of tender hopes
    Upon the vine-clad Roman land.

    Great empress of that early time,
        Glad ruler of the gentle souls,
   ...