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Article TO ISIDORE. ← Page 2 of 2 Article SONNET. Page 1 of 1 Article SONGS OF THE TYROL.—No. 2. Page 1 of 1
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To Isidore.
My heart has felt , what thou hast wish'd In flowing numbers , it might feel , Far more than words can tell ; " The wound that time may sear , not heal , " Sure once to thee I did reveal , As thou must know full well . And I have pin'd for one fond heart
, To beat in unison with mine , So far alas ! in vain ; Thus idly now , I sweep the chords Of memory ' s lyre , to breathe in words The measure of my pain . CHARLES CLAPHAM , Wakefield . P . M . Unanimity . No . 179 .
Sonnet.
SONNET .
Wandering unknown , perchance distrest , A pilgrim vainly seeking rest , The busy mart he ranges o ' er , Sees commerce ope her shining store , Poured from the gallant barks , that roll Through ploughed-up seas ; with moisten'd eye He gazes on the blazonry
Of foreign pomp unheedingly •The iron ' s in his soul . But ah 1 what magic spell is here ? What beacon-light his soul to cheer?—The Mason grasps a Brother ' s hand ! That soil to him is fatherland , Hurrah \ for Masonry . BRO . T . F . B ., MORTON LODGE , SHETLAND ,
Songs Of The Tyrol.—No. 2.
SONGS OF THE TYROL . —No . 2 .
DAS ABSCHIED . O think , love , of me , When bright eyes beam around thee , When pleasure and mirth With their light snares surround thee . Tho' youth seek thy love , Or the wealthy thy bower , My memory shall prove Thy shield in that hour ; Think , love , of me—think , love , of me .
O think , love , of me When night ' s low star is streaming ; When on thy gay path Her mild lamp is beaming . When the gay ones of earth Shall smiling caress thee , Give one thought on me ,
And this sad heart shall bless thee ; Think , love , of me—think , love , of me . VOL . ix . Q Q
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
To Isidore.
My heart has felt , what thou hast wish'd In flowing numbers , it might feel , Far more than words can tell ; " The wound that time may sear , not heal , " Sure once to thee I did reveal , As thou must know full well . And I have pin'd for one fond heart
, To beat in unison with mine , So far alas ! in vain ; Thus idly now , I sweep the chords Of memory ' s lyre , to breathe in words The measure of my pain . CHARLES CLAPHAM , Wakefield . P . M . Unanimity . No . 179 .
Sonnet.
SONNET .
Wandering unknown , perchance distrest , A pilgrim vainly seeking rest , The busy mart he ranges o ' er , Sees commerce ope her shining store , Poured from the gallant barks , that roll Through ploughed-up seas ; with moisten'd eye He gazes on the blazonry
Of foreign pomp unheedingly •The iron ' s in his soul . But ah 1 what magic spell is here ? What beacon-light his soul to cheer?—The Mason grasps a Brother ' s hand ! That soil to him is fatherland , Hurrah \ for Masonry . BRO . T . F . B ., MORTON LODGE , SHETLAND ,
Songs Of The Tyrol.—No. 2.
SONGS OF THE TYROL . —No . 2 .
DAS ABSCHIED . O think , love , of me , When bright eyes beam around thee , When pleasure and mirth With their light snares surround thee . Tho' youth seek thy love , Or the wealthy thy bower , My memory shall prove Thy shield in that hour ; Think , love , of me—think , love , of me .
O think , love , of me When night ' s low star is streaming ; When on thy gay path Her mild lamp is beaming . When the gay ones of earth Shall smiling caress thee , Give one thought on me ,
And this sad heart shall bless thee ; Think , love , of me—think , love , of me . VOL . ix . Q Q