Part 19 (1/2)
SET TO MUSIC BY THE CHEVALIER NEUKOMM.
Come sing, Come sing, of the great Sea-King, And the fame that now hangs o'er him, Who once did sweep o'er the vanquish'd deep, And drove the world before him!
His deck was a throne, on the ocean lone, And the sea was his park of pleasure, Where he scattered in fear the human deer, And rested,--when he had leisure!
Come,--shout and sing Of the great Sea-King, And ride in the track he rode in!
He sits at the head Of the mighty dead, On the red right hand of Odin!
He sprang, from birth, like a G.o.d on earth, And soared on his victor pinions, And he traversed the sea, as the eagles flee, When they gaze on their blue dominions.
His whole earth life was a conquering strife, And he lived till his beard grew h.o.a.ry, And he died at last, by his blood-red mast, And now--he is lost in glory!
So,--shout and sing, &c.
[Decoration]
_A SERENADE._
SET TO MUSIC BY THE CHEVALIER NEUKOMM.
Awake!--The starry midnight Hour Hangs charmed, and pauseth in its flight: In its own sweetness sleeps the flower; And the doves lie hushed in deep delight!
Awake! Awake!
Look forth, my love, for Love's sweet sake!
Awake!--Soft dews will soon arise From daisied mead, and th.o.r.n.y brake; Then, Sweet, uncloud those eastern eyes, And like the tender morning break!
Awake! Awake!
Dawn forth, my love, for Love's sweet sake!
Awake!--Within the musk-rose bower I watch, pale flower of love, for thee; Ah, come, and shew the starry Hour What wealth of love thou hid'st from me!
Awake! Awake!
Shew all thy love, for Love's sweet sake!
Awake!--Ne'er heed, though listening Night Steal music from thy silver voice: Uncloud thy beauty, rare and bright, And bid the world and me rejoice!
Awake! Awake!
She comes,--at last, for Love's sweet sake!
[Decoration]
_KING DEATH._
SET TO MUSIC BY THE CHEVALIER NEUKOMM.
King Death was a rare old fellow!
He sate where no sun could s.h.i.+ne; And he lifted his hand so yellow, And poured out his coal-black wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
There came to him many a Maiden, Whose eyes had forgot to s.h.i.+ne; And Widows, with grief o'erladen, For a draught of his sleepy wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
The Scholar left all his learning; The Poet his fancied woes; And the Beauty her bloom returning, As the beads of the black wine rose.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!