Robert Dwyer Joyce

* * *

O, FAIR shines the sun on Glenara,
And calm rest his beams on Glenara;
  But, O, there ’s a light
  Far dearer, more bright,
Illumines my soul in Glenara,
The light of thine eyes in Glenara.

And sweet sings the stream of Glenara,
Glancing down through the woods like an arrow;
  But a sound far more sweet
  Glads my heart when we meet
In the green summer woods of Glenara,—
Thy voice by the wave of Glenara.

And, O, ever thus in Glenara,
Till we sleep in our graves by Glenara,
  May thy voice sound as free
  And as kindly to me,
And thine eyes beam as fond in Glenara,
In the green summer woods of Glenara!