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Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour,
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night,
And maids who love the moon.
'Twas but to bless these hours of shade
That beauty and the moon were made;
'Tis then their soft attractions glowing
Set the tides and goblets flowing.
Oh! stay, -- Oh! stay, --
Joy so seldom weaves a chain
Like this to-night, that oh, 'tis pain
To break its links so soon.
Fly not yet, the fount that play'd
In times of old through Ammon's shade,
Though icy cold by day it ran,
Yet still, like souls of mirth, began
To burn when night was near.
And thus, should woman's heart and looks
At noon be cold as winter brooks,
Nor kindle till the night, returning,
Brings their genial hour for burning.
Oh! stay, -- Oh! stay, --
When did morning ever break,
And find such beaming eyes awake
As those that sparkle here?
- Album:
- Miscellaneous
- Non-Album Releases
- My Gentle Harp
- O Canada And Other Inspirational International Anthems
- Timeless Memories: Greatest Hits
- Daughter of Mine (The Perfect Wedding Album)
- The Danny Boy Collection
- Christmas Memories
- When I Grow Too Old to Dream
- Songs of The Isles: Ireland
- O Canada
- Old Friends
- Danny Boy
- Great Is Thy Faithfulness - Songs of Inspiration
- Stories of Love
- Songs of the Isles – Scotland
- Scotland This Ancient Land
- A Traditional Christmas
- The Old House
- Caledonia - A Highland Homecoming