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The Melodist/The Cold Flinty Rock

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4308950The Melodist — The Cold Flinty RockAnonymous

The Cold Flinty Rock.

On this cold flinty rock I will lay down my head,
And. happy, I'll sing thro' the night!
The Moon shall smile sweetly upon my cold bed,
And the Stars crowd to give me their light:

Then come'to me, my gentle dear,
O turn thy sweet eyes to me!
To my bosom now creep, I will sing thee to sleep,
And kiss from thy lids the sad tear,
And kiss from thy lids the sad tear.

This innocent flower which these rude cliffs unfold,

Is thou, love! the joy of this earth!
But the rock that it springs from, so flinty and cold,
Is thy Father that gave thee thy birth.

Then come to me, &c.

The dews that now hang on the cheek of the eve,
And the winds that so mournfully cry,
Are the sighs and the tears of the youth thou must leave,
To lie down in these desarts to die.

Then come to me, &c.