loch long.
A silence deeper than before
O'er each fair presence gently came,
The meetest tribute it could claim;
For who in words could e'er express
The fulness of deep joyousness?
Oh! many a year may pass away,
And hours of mirth and gladness play
Around each heart that beat that day,
But there will never come again
An hour of bliss less free from pain;
Nor scenes of beauty e'er compare
With what we viewed, nay, worshipped there:
In memory's life it will live for ever,
While heart and soul beat on together.
O'er each fair presence gently came,
The meetest tribute it could claim;
For who in words could e'er express
The fulness of deep joyousness?
Oh! many a year may pass away,
And hours of mirth and gladness play
Around each heart that beat that day,
But there will never come again
An hour of bliss less free from pain;
Nor scenes of beauty e'er compare
With what we viewed, nay, worshipped there:
In memory's life it will live for ever,
While heart and soul beat on together.
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