Page:Forget Me Not (1824).djvu/167
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There is beauty on the mountain,
In the morning's early gleam;
There is beauty the fountain,
By the moonlight's silv'ry beam;
In the morning's early gleam;
There is beauty the fountain,
By the moonlight's silv'ry beam;
But more beautiful the splendour
Of thy smile, Love, when we meet;
And that dewy eye more tender,
Which can make e'en parting sweet.
Of thy smile, Love, when we meet;
And that dewy eye more tender,
Which can make e'en parting sweet.
There is music in the measure
Of the soaring sky-lark's lay,
When he hails with eager pleasure
The rising orb of day;—
Of the soaring sky-lark's lay,
When he hails with eager pleasure
The rising orb of day;—
There is melody enchanting
In sweet Philomela's voice,
When she, with music panting,
Bids drowsy night rejoic;—
In sweet Philomela's voice,
When she, with music panting,
Bids drowsy night rejoic;—