Thomas Haynes Bayly

Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content read more

Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth,
And make use of your wings while you may.
. . . .
But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite,
They at last found it dangerous play;
Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth,
Only dazzle to lead us astray.

Gayly the troubadour
Touched his guitar.

Gayly the troubadour
Touched his guitar.

My fond affection thou hast seen,
Then judge of my regret
To think more happy thou hadst read more

My fond affection thou hast seen,
Then judge of my regret
To think more happy thou hadst been
If we had never met!
And has that thought been shared by thee?
Ah, no! that smiling cheek
Proves more unchanging love for me
Than labor'd words could speak.

'Tis godlike to have power, but not to kill.

'Tis godlike to have power, but not to kill.

The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.

The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me.