First Lines of James Nack
Above the scenes of earthly labor,And thou art torn, my fairest!Bright eyes, fair tresses, cherub faces,But yesterday a child of pain,Far, far from this grave be the footstep unholy,Forget me not, my blue-eyed maid,Friend of my heart! -- friend of the human race!Go -- I from my soul disclaim thee,GOD bless thee, Walter Scott!I have a little daughterI know that thou art far away,I love thee! -- need I say it now?I may not call to grandeur's hallIn the watches of the night,Man strides along through thick and thin,My babe! my own, my precious babe!My boy! my boy! what hopes and fearsMy childhood scenes! oh, where are they?My fondest and fairest!My hopes are blighted, and I feelNay, ask not of the secret griefNo boon that fortune can impartNow heed my words, my precious girl! --Oft as I pass St. Thomas' Church,Oh there is a songOn that I were a kingShe calls me
father!-- though my earShe loved me well, whose precious headSo it is gone! -- another year!Sweet murmurings of a father's name;'T Is true that love's romantic dreamsThat we for riper years should stay,The beautiful humanitiesThe glittering stars we admire,The meanest wretch that sullies earthThe winds of March are loose again,The world looks pleasantly and brightThough father and motherTwelve years ago! how swift their flight,When childhood shall have flown away,When I am in that distant placeWhen to the crowded halls of mirthYes, she is beautiful indeed!