OUR WAY ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS, HO! WHEN the tempests fly, o'er the cloudy sky And the piping blast sings merrily; Oh, sweet is the mirth of the social hearth, Where the flames are blazing cheerily Our way across the mountains, ho! The moon-beam bright, of a summer's night, Shineth but sad and wearily; But sweet is the glow where contentment flows, And the bright fire blazes cheerily. Oh, when the tempests fly o'er the cloudy sky, And the piping blast sings merrily; Oh, sweet is the mirth of the social hearth, Where the flames are blazing cheerily Our way across the mountains, ho! Let the storms without, in their midnight rout, Howl through the casement drearily; We're merry within round the blazing linn, Where contentment flows right cheerily. Our way across the mountains, ho! THERE'S NO HOME LIKE MY OWN In the wild Chamois track, With a hunter's pride, O'er the mountain side, We are led by the sound of the Alpine horn, Tra la la la la la la la la O, that voice to me, Is a voice of glee, Where'er my footsteps roam; And I long to bound, When I hear that sound, Again to my mountain home, In the wild Chamois track, O'er the mountain side, We are led by the sound of the Alpine horn; &c. I have crossed the proud Alps, Like the simple cot, And the hill and the valley I call my own; Tra la la la la la la la la, &c There the skies are bright, Our bosoms without a fear, And our sport the fray, With the mountain roe, or the forest deer. THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS THE light of other days is faded, For grief with heavy wing hath shaded m The world, which morning's mantle clouded Shines forth with purer rays! But the heart ne'er feels, in sorrow shrouded The light of other days. The leaf which autumn tempests wither, The birds which then take wing When winter's winds are past, come hither To welcome back the spring: The very ivy on the ruin, In gloom full life displays; But the heart alone sees no renewing The light of other days. AM I NOT FONDLY THINE OWN? THOU, thou, reign'st in this bosom, There, there, hast thou thy throne; Thou, thou, knowest that I love thee,Am I not fondly thine own? Yes, yes, yes, yes, am I not fondly thine own? Then, then, e'en as I love thee, Say, say, wilt thou love me? Thoughts, thoughts, tender and true, love, Say wilt though cherish for me? Yes, yes, yes, yes, say wilt thou cherish for me? Speak, speak, love, I implore thee, OCH! NORAH DEAR. OCH! Norah dear! I'm waiting here, All shrined in tears of dew, love. Och! Norah dear! &c. Och! Norah dear! I'm waiting here, The stars look cold and blue, love; |