Since those years of early time, Faithful still to earth I've
sung; Flying through each distant clime, Ever welcome, ever young!
Still pleas'd, my solace I impart Where brightest hopes are scattered
dead; 'Tis mine--sweet gift!--to charm the heart, Though all its other
joys have fled!
Time, that withers all beside, Harmless past me loves to glide; Change,
that mortals must obey, Ne'er shall shake my gentle sway; Still 'tis
mine all hearts to move In eternity of love.
As the last sounds of her voice and her lute died softly away upon the
still night air, an indescribable elevation appeared in the girl's
countenance. She looked up rapturously into the far, star-bright sky;
her lip quivered, her dark eyes filled with tears, and her bosom heaved
with the excess of the emotions that the music and the scene inspired.
Then she gazed slowly around her, dwelling tenderly upon the fragrant
flower-beds that were the work of her own hands, and looking forth with
an expression half reverential, half ecstatic over the long, smooth,
shining plains, and the still, glorious mountains, that had so long been
the inspiration of her most cherished thoughts, and that now glowed
before her eyes, soft and beautiful as her dreams on her virgin couch.
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