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SWEET JOY, SWEET SORROW.
BY WM. CAREY, ESQ.
Sweet is the solemn moon-light hour
Sweet is the look, in silence stole,
Sweet are the hours, when, led by love,
Sweet is the maiden's fond delay,
Sweet is the vow of love for life;
Sweet fairy prospects follow soon;
Sweet is that changing look, that eye
Sweet is that form by Love imprest;
Sweet fly the number'd moons : they fy;
Sweet name of Father, sweet to bear!
These joys I've shar'd; these joys I've krema:
'Tis sweet to echo sigh for sigh ;
'Tis sweet to nurse a silent grief,
'Tis sweet by twilight pale, alone, To
press the dumb, sepulchral stone; For still, to God and nature dear, Flows sadly sweet the parent's tear.
'Tis Friendship's right, I know full well,
R. A. D.
Tecum venitque, manetque;
Ir e'er to feel the breath of Fame
Could hope my humble lyre, It were because thy sacred name
Hangs trembling on its wire. Thy name breathes magic o'er my song,
As when by Selma's springs, An unknown spirit mov'd along,
And swept the dying strings.*
My raptur’d soul surveys ;
Thy merit all my praise.
An index to the spheres,
Thine obvious soul appears.
Commix with shades of even;
The harmony of Heaven.
As fields of grain th' impulsive wind,
With all their waves obey ;
Shall own thy gentle sway.
Because Thou lovest its tone;
To'assimilate my own.
Can mightier thoughts inspire;
I think I feel Thy fire.
More sportively entwine,
The elegance of Thine.
When wild her features grow,
With all th' enthusiast's glow.
In milder scenes I see,
Is borrow'd half from Thee.
Nature and heaven approve,
Is full of thee and love.