A new "English Song," by Barry Cornwall, is now--more's the pity--a
too rare event in the musical year. We are at once doing our readers
a pleasure, and owning a welcome kindness, in publishing, by the
author's permission, these words, set by M. Benedict, and sung by
Madame Sontag.
The world is waking into light;
The dark and sullen night hath flown:
Life lives and re-assumes its might,
And nature smiles upon her throne.
And the Lark,
Hark!
_She_ gives welcome to the day,
In a merry, merry, lay,
Tra la!--lira, lira, lira, la!
Soft sounds are sailing through the air;
Sweet sounds are springing from the stream;
And fairest things, where all is fair,
Join gently in the grateful theme.
And the Lark, &c., &c.
The morn, the morn is in the skies;
The reaper singeth from the corn;
The shepherd on the hills replies;
And all things now salute the morn,
Even the Lark, &c., &c.
* * * * *
[FROM ELIZA COOK'S JOURNAL.]