the postman's knock.
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Joy, friendship, love, and oft-times grief's
Imparted by his call,
Yet, be his tidings what they may,
He's welcomed still by all.
Imparted by his call,
Yet, be his tidings what they may,
He's welcomed still by all.
How many bosoms hopefully,
Yet tremblingly, await
That packet, which has travell'd far
To tell some loved one's fate:
A sailor or a soldier love,
Cut down in life's young spring—
What wonder if his own last last lines
Become a worshipp'd thing!
What wonder, then, if bitter tears
From sorrow's fount arise,
Embalming oft that folded leaf,
Than gold a richer prize!
Yet tremblingly, await
That packet, which has travell'd far
To tell some loved one's fate:
A sailor or a soldier love,
Cut down in life's young spring—
What wonder if his own last last lines
Become a worshipp'd thing!
What wonder, then, if bitter tears
From sorrow's fount arise,
Embalming oft that folded leaf,
Than gold a richer prize!
The postman's knock! its magic power
What bosom can deny—
Say, who has not his absence felt
Without an anxious sigh?
Alas! 'tis sad, with hope-fraught heart,
To sit and watch the clock
Until the very hour arrives,
And then, no postman's knock!
What bosom can deny—
Say, who has not his absence felt
Without an anxious sigh?
Alas! 'tis sad, with hope-fraught heart,
To sit and watch the clock
Until the very hour arrives,
And then, no postman's knock!
I've marked a bitter tear-drop start
Unbidden to an eye,
I've marked a bosom struggling heave
With disappointment's sigh—
Unbidden to an eye,
I've marked a bosom struggling heave
With disappointment's sigh—
