And that black cloud for ever shall cling to the skies:
And never, ah, never, I'll see him arise,
Lost warmth of my bosom, lost light of my eyes!





Songs to Music




BATTLE HYMN

(Written to an old Irish Air)


Above the thunder crashes,
Around the lightning flashes:
Our heads are heaped with ashes
But Thou, God, art nigh!
Thou launchest forth the levin,
The storm by Thee is driven,
Give heed, O Lord, from Heaven,
Hear, hear our cry!

For lo, the Dane defaces
With fire Thy holy places,
He hews Thy priests in pieces,