The Vocal Lyre; A Choice Selection of the Most Popular, Sentimental, Patriotic, and Comic Songs of the Present Time

The Vocal Lyre; A Choice Selection of the Most Popular, Sentimental, Patriotic, and Comic Songs of the Present Time

By (author) 

List price: US$14.14

Currently unavailable

Add to wishlist

AbeBooks may have this title (opens in new window).

Try AbeBooks

Description

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1841 edition. Excerpt: ...his destined bride But false report had brought to Nan, Six months before, that Tom had died. With grief she daily pined away. No remedy her life could save; And Tom retum'd--the very day Tbev laid his Nancy ii be grave. T. Knight THE BAY OF BISCAIf. Ot LoCD roar'd the dreadful thunder! The rain a deluge showers The clouds were sent asucder By lightning's vivid powers! The night both drear and dark. Our poor devoted bark, Till next day, There she lay, la the Bay of Biscay, O! At length the wish'd for morrow Broke through the haly sky i Absoib'd in silent sorrow, Each heav'd a bitter sigh I The dismal wreck to view Struck horror to the crew. As she lay, On that day, In the Bay of Biscay, O! Her yielding timbers sever. Her pitchy seams are rent, When Heaven, all bounteous -- Its boundless mercy sent; A sail in sight appears We hail her with three chesn! Now we sail, With the gale, from the Bay of Biscay, Ot FAR, FAR AT SEA. Twu at night when the bell had toll'd twelve And poor Susan was laid on her pillow, In her ear whispered some fleeting elve, Tour love is now tossed on a billow. Far, far, at sea. All was dark! as she 'woke out of breath, Not an object her fears could discover; All was still as the silence of death. Save fancy which painted her lover Far, far, at sea. So she wbisper'd a prayer, closed her eyes, But the phantom still haunted her pillow Whils! in terror she echoed his cries, As struggling he sunk in the billow. Far, far at sea. OH, TELL, ME PILGRIMS. Oh, tell me, pilgrims faint and weary, Whither o'er the moor you stray? The winds of night blow cold and dreary, Dark and lonely is the way. rhough dark the way though lone the moor, At Juan's shrine our beads we tell, Each night when, from the abbey tower, Slowly tolls the...show more

Product details

  • Paperback | 30 pages
  • 189 x 246 x 2mm | 73g
  • Rarebooksclub.com
  • Miami Fl, United States
  • English
  • black & white illustrations
  • 1236530748
  • 9781236530745