Yon deep bark goesWhere Traffic blowsFrom lands of sun to lands of snows;—Yon happier one,Its course is runFrom lands of snow to lands of sun.
My soul to-day Is far away Sailing the Vesuvian BayThomas Buchanan Read
We bring roses, beautiful fresh roses, Dewy as the morning and coloured like the dawn; Little tents of odour, where the bee reposes, Swooning in sweetness of the bed he dreams upon.Thomas Buchanan Read
Within the sober realm of leafless trees,The russet year inhaled the dreamy air;Like some tanned reaper, in his hour of ease,When all the fields are lying brown and bare.Thomas Buchanan Read
My soul to-dayIs far awaySailing the Vesuvian Bay.Thomas Buchanan Read
With dreamful eyesMy spirit liesUnder the walls of Paradise.Thomas Buchanan Read
We bring roses, beautiful fresh roses,Dewy as the morning and colored like the dawn.Thomas Buchanan Read
The terrible rumble, grumble and roarTelling the battle was on once more—And Sheridan twenty miles away!Thomas Buchanan Read