LET courtly bards, in courtly lay,
Invoke the muse on New Year's day,
Prophetic, future times unfold,
NOW the dancing sunbeams play
On the green and glassy sea;
Come, and I will lead the way,
Where the pearly treasures be.
DEAR to my heart as life's warm stream,
Which animates this mortal clay,
For thee I court the waking ...
WHY from these shades, sweet bird of eve,
Art thou to other regions wildly fled?
Thy pensive song would oft my cares relieve,
BEHOLD the gloomy tyrant's awful form
Binding the captive earth in icy chains;
His chilling breath sweeps o'er the wat'ry plains,
'TWAS at the time the moon's broad shield
Shone 'midst the vaulted skies,
While trembling round, in regal state,
The starry myriads rise.
O Tuneful voice, I still deplore
Those accents which, tho' heard no more,
Still vibrate on my heart;
In echo's cave I long to dwell,
OF soul too high to act a dubious part,
With modest talents, and a feeling heart;
While worth and honour our respect shall claim,
WHERE the green ivy twining,
Binds round the burn's brow,
I heard a voice complaining
In numbers sad and low.
SPRING returns, the flowrets blow;
Will hope return? ah, no! ah, no!
With the dreams of youth she flies,
And like the rose, her emblem, dies.