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Bright star, goal of my yearning eyes As thou above me beamest, When thou shalt hide thee from my sight I'll know that death is near me.
It is thou that beamest the sunshine in the patriot’s breast; it is thou that sweetenest the toil of the labouring mechanic! thou dost inspire the ploughman with his jocund mirth, and thou tunest the merry milk-maid’s song; thou canst make the desert smile, and the barren rock to sing for joy; by thy sacred protection the poorest peasant lies secure under the shadow of his defenceless cot, whilst oppression at a distance gnashes with her teeth, but dares not show her iron rod; and power, like the raging billows, dashes its bounds with indignation, but dares not overpass them.
Bright star, goal of my yearning eyes As thou above me beamest, When thou shalt hide thee from my sight I'll know that death is near me.
His clear tenor rose through the silence of the night, and a feeble echo flung it back from the mansion opposite: "Star, sweet star, that brightly beamest, Glittering on the skies nocturnal, Hide thine eye no more from me, Hide thine eye no more from me!"
Bright star, goal of my yearning eyes As thou above me beamest, When thou shalt hide thee from my sight I'll know that death is near me.
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