THE MANIAC'S SONG.
191
A cloud now comes o'er it, 'tis dark at midday,
Nor sun, moon, or star cheers the wanderer's way.
Nor sun, moon, or star cheers the wanderer's way.
I'm weary, I'm faint, my brain's in a whirl,
See! a ship is in sight, its sails they unfurl;
Fast, fast it is nearing—it touches the shore,
I'm on board—we are off, to return never more!
See! a ship is in sight, its sails they unfurl;
Fast, fast it is nearing—it touches the shore,
I'm on board—we are off, to return never more!
Old ocean receives us—no fond mother's breast
Ever pillowed more sweetly her infant to rest;
My spirit grows calmer, low murmurs I hear,
The voices of loved ones sound sweet to my ear.
Ever pillowed more sweetly her infant to rest;
My spirit grows calmer, low murmurs I hear,
The voices of loved ones sound sweet to my ear.
They tell of two homes of sunshine and joy,
And one I remember, 'twas mine when a boy;
The other they say, yet to me shall be given,
And the friends I have lost I shall find them in heaven."
And one I remember, 'twas mine when a boy;
The other they say, yet to me shall be given,
And the friends I have lost I shall find them in heaven."
A smile lights up the maniac's face, and see those gushing tears,
Such drops as these, such precious drops, he has not shed for years;
Reason returns, resumes her throne, he is himself again,
And now, with chastened spirit, takes his place with other men.
Such drops as these, such precious drops, he has not shed for years;
Reason returns, resumes her throne, he is himself again,
And now, with chastened spirit, takes his place with other men.
