Four Songs

The sea-mew screams in flight
Over the wild, wide sea;
And the wind has a weary murmur
Through the boughs of the leafless tree.

But O! the heart has music
In all its happy moods,
As if the golden summer
Were here among the trees.

There are clouds on the distant hills
And the sky is a misty grey;
And dimly loom the fishing smacks
Afar on the sunless bay.

But the heart can cherish beauty
And a pleasant vision weaves
As when the song of the woodlark
Came merryly sic through the trees.

O wind, on sand and shingle
Still dash the stormy spray.
I hear in thy hoarsest tumult
The silver voice of May.

Sapho, I will choose to go
Where the northern winds do blow
Endless ice and endless snow:
Rather than I once would see
But a winter's face in thee,
To benumb my hopes and me.

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear, your true love's coming 
That can sing both high and low.

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers' meeting,
Ev'ry wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:

In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty;
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Sweet dreams, form a shade
Round my lovely infant's head,
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy, silent, moony beams.

Sweet Sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown;
Sweet Sleep, angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.

Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight.
Sweet smiles, mother's smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thine eyes!
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep, sleep, happy child:
All creation slept and smiled.
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee thy mother weep.

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