HOPE.THE WORDS AND MUSIC COMPOSED FOR MERRY’S MUSEUM.
THE WORDS AND MUSIC COMPOSED FOR MERRY’S MUSEUM.
music page 1
music page 2
1.The lark whose morning song is gay,At evening hath a pensive lay.The thrush that caroll’d blithe at morn,Sits silent now in yonder thorn.But evening hath no frown for me;No spectres in its gloom I see—For hope, fond hope, looks thro’ the night,And finds beyond its worlds of light.2.Then let the sun go deeply down,And evening o’er the landscape frown—My thoughts on wings of hope shall riseTo yon fair orbs beyond the skies.And if, awhile, we tread the gladeWhere clouds and darkness cast their shade,Yet here—e’en here—hope’s wizard wandShall stud the gloom with stars beyond.
1.The lark whose morning song is gay,At evening hath a pensive lay.The thrush that caroll’d blithe at morn,Sits silent now in yonder thorn.But evening hath no frown for me;No spectres in its gloom I see—For hope, fond hope, looks thro’ the night,And finds beyond its worlds of light.2.Then let the sun go deeply down,And evening o’er the landscape frown—My thoughts on wings of hope shall riseTo yon fair orbs beyond the skies.And if, awhile, we tread the gladeWhere clouds and darkness cast their shade,Yet here—e’en here—hope’s wizard wandShall stud the gloom with stars beyond.
1.The lark whose morning song is gay,At evening hath a pensive lay.The thrush that caroll’d blithe at morn,Sits silent now in yonder thorn.
1.
The lark whose morning song is gay,
At evening hath a pensive lay.
The thrush that caroll’d blithe at morn,
Sits silent now in yonder thorn.
But evening hath no frown for me;No spectres in its gloom I see—For hope, fond hope, looks thro’ the night,And finds beyond its worlds of light.
But evening hath no frown for me;
No spectres in its gloom I see—
For hope, fond hope, looks thro’ the night,
And finds beyond its worlds of light.
2.Then let the sun go deeply down,And evening o’er the landscape frown—My thoughts on wings of hope shall riseTo yon fair orbs beyond the skies.
2.
Then let the sun go deeply down,
And evening o’er the landscape frown—
My thoughts on wings of hope shall rise
To yon fair orbs beyond the skies.
And if, awhile, we tread the gladeWhere clouds and darkness cast their shade,Yet here—e’en here—hope’s wizard wandShall stud the gloom with stars beyond.
And if, awhile, we tread the glade
Where clouds and darkness cast their shade,
Yet here—e’en here—hope’s wizard wand
Shall stud the gloom with stars beyond.