Eastern Song

By the brightness of the morning ray,
By the deepest shades of night—
Thy beauty has not pass'd away;
'Tis ever in my sight.

No sorrow e'er can light on me—
But when, beloved, we part,
My thoughts are bounded all in thee,
Thou Lote-tree* of my heart.

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—Thou art gone

Thou art gone, and the brilliant light that shone
In the track of thy way is fled;
And thou leav'st the heart that loved thee alone,
Silent, and cold, and dead!

When thy smile arose, like the morning's beam,
All the world seem'd good and bright
But 'tis past like the lovely forms of a dream,
And I wake to the gloom of night.

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Lines.—When this heart is cold and still

When this heart is cold and still,
And can throb for thee no more;
When it wakes not to the thrill
Of the harp's wild chord;
Nor can e'en afford
A sigh to the days of yore;

Then come to my silent tomb,
Which the breeze will murmur over:
Where reigns the deepest gloom—
Where the bat flits by
And the ravens cry—
Thou shalt the spot discover.

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—Oh, long enough my life has been

Oh! long enough my life has been,
Since I thy love have known;
I would not change the pleasing scene,
And find its beauties flown.

Then let me die, while yet no care
Has reached my trusting breast;
While sorrow is a stranger there,
And all is joy and rest.

Let me not feel what varied pain
Life's theatre can show—
That all our present hours are vain,
And all our future woe!

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—The transient time

The transient time, for ever past,

How shall I dare review!—

The fatal day we parted last,

And wept out last adieu!

Alas! that day has swell'd to years—

That sorrow to a sea of tears!

I would the mournful thoughts would fly,

Regretted, loved in vain,

Among the dreams of memory

That never come again!—

[...] Read more

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—Thou wert lovely

Thou wert lovely to my sight,
When in yonder dell I found thee
In thy radiant beauty bright,
Though a desert spread around thee;
Like the heath-bell's purple flower,
Shrinking from a dewy shower.

Thou art rich in beauty yet,
Fair as when at first I loved thee;
All the snares that could beset,
Rank and splendour, since have proved thee;
Change thy fortune as it will,
Thou art fair and faultless still.

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—Yes, I had hope

Yes! I had hope when first we met,
For hope and joy were in thine eye;
'Twas long before I could forget,
I trusted thee so tenderly.

And even now, though years are flown,
And all that charm'd me then was vain,
I think on happy moments flown,
Until they seem to live again.

But I awake to truth and woe,
And vanish'd is the pleasing dream,
Like the frail shade the moonbeams throw,
Or image in the passing stream

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—'Tis the spot where we parted

'Tis the spot where we parted—
Oh! never again
Can its breeze or its blossoms
Awake but to pain.
Ah! as fair is the scene
As it flourish'd before;
But the ray that gave life
Beams in lustre no more.
Thou art gone—like the rainbow
Departed each hue,
That gleam'd for a moment,
Then fled from the view;—
I may gaze on the cloud,
The bright shadow pass'd o'er;
But the light of thy form
Shall enchant me no more.

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—In early days

In early days thy fondness taught
My soul its endless love to know;
Thy image waked in every thought,
Nor fear'd my tongue to tell thee so.

In all the trusting faith of youth,
That knows no dread, that feels no care,
I deem'd thy heart was all of truth,
And I the cherish'd object there.

Alas! the vision'd bliss is gone—
Too soon those days were o'er!
This heart still loves—but loves alone—
Its joys are there no more

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Song.—This mournful heart

Odi quelrusignolo

Che va di ramo in ramo

Cantado; io amo; io amo.

Tasso's Aminta

This mournful heart can dream of nought but thee,

As with slow steps among these shades I move,

And hear the nightingale from tree to tree

Sighing "I love! I love!"

This mournful heart wakes to one thought alone

[...] Read more

poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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