Stern, stern is the voice of fate’
When accents of horror it breathes
Or compels us for aye bid adieu to
Where exists that loved friend to
’Tis sterner than death o’er the s

Orphan Hours, the Year is dead,
Come and sigh, come and weep!
Merry Hours, smile instead,
For the Year is but asleep.
See, it smiles as it is sleeping,

How swiftly through Heaven’s wide
Bright day’s resplendent colours f
How sweetly does the moonbeam’s gl
With silver tint St. Irvyne’s gla
No cloud along the spangled air,

One sung of thee who left the tale
Like the false dawns which perish
Like empty cups of wrought and dae
Which mock the lips with air, when

Rough wind, that moanest loud
Grief too sad for song;
Wild wind, when sullen cloud
Knells all the night long;
Sad storm whose tears are vain,

And like a dying lady, lean and pa
Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a ga
Out of her chamber, led by the ins
And feeble wanderings of her fadin
The moon arose up in the murky Ea

The fountains mingle with the rive
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;

To Mary '— '—
So now my summer task is ended, M
And I return to thee, mine own he
As to his Queen some victor Knigh
Earning bright spoils for her inch

Oh! did you observe the Black Can
And did you observe his frown?
He goeth to say the midnight mass,
In holy St. Edmond’s town.
He goeth to sing the burial chaunt

The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon was rising among
Dear Jane.
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till