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Song.—The Day Returns

Tune—"Seventh of November."

     The day returns, my bosom burns,
     The blissful day we twa did meet:
     Tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,
     Ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.
     Than a' the pride that loads the tide,
     And crosses o'er the sultry line;
     Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
     Heav'n gave me more—it made thee mine!

     While day and night can bring delight,
     Or Nature aught of pleasure give;
     While joys above my mind can move,
     For thee, and thee alone, I live.
     When that grim foe of life below
     Comes in between to make us part,
     The iron hand that breaks our band,
     It breaks my bliss—it breaks my heart!

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