Mild the mist upon the hill Telling not of storms tomorrow; No, the day has wept its fill, Spent its store of silent sorrow. O, I’m gone back to the days of y…

Me thinks this heart should rest a… So stilly round the evening falls The veiled sun sheds no parting sm… Nor mirth nor music wakes my Hall… I have sat lonely all the day

She dried her tears and they did s… To see her cheeks’ returning glow How little dreaming all the while That full heart throbbed to overfl… With that sweet look and lively to…

In summer’s mellow midnight, A cloudless moon shone through Our open parlour window, And rose-trees wet with dew. I sat in silent musing;

Loud without the wind was roaring Through th’ autumnal sky; Drenching wet, the cold rain pouri… Spoke of winter nigh. All too like that dreary eve,

For him who struck thy foreign str… I ween this heart has ceased to ca… Then why dost thou such feelings b… To my sad spirit—old Guitar? It is as if the warm sunlight

All day I’ve toiled but not with… In learning’s golden mine And now at eventide again The moonbeams softly shine There is no snow upon the ground

There should be no despair for you While nightly stars are burning, While evening pours its silent dew And sunshine gilds the morning. There should be no despair —though…

Hope was but a timid friend; She sat without the grated den, Watching how my fate would tend, Even as selfish—hearted men. She was cruel in her fear;

How few, of all the hearts that lo… Are grieving for thee now; And why should mine to—night be mo… With such a sense of woe? Too often thus, when left alone,

Shall earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now? Since passion may not fire thee Shall Nature cease to bow? Thy mind is ever moving

Riches I hold in light esteem; And Love I laugh to scorn; And lust of fame was but a dream That vanished with the morn: And if I pray, the only prayer

I’ll not weep that thou art going… There’s nothing lovely here; And doubly will the dark world gri… While thy heart suffers there. I’ll not weep, because the summer’…

‘Enough of thought, philosopher! Too long hast thou been dreaming Unlightened, in this chamber drear… While summer’s sun is beaming! Space—sweeping soul, what sad refr…

I see around me tombstones grey Stretching their shadows far away. Beneath the turf my footsteps trea… Lie low and lone the silent dead— Beneath the turf– beneath the moul…