Eliza Acton

Song

Give  me gay music !—we will not dwell
On a thought which can pain our hearts to night;
But Pleasure shall cast her gentle spell
Around our spirits, in Fortunes' spite.

The magic of Mirth, and soul of Song
Shall lend their charm to the passing hour,
And speed old Time on his flight along,
And rob grey care of his teasing pow'r !—