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Aid me, sisters nine,
While my hand I'm flinging
O'er the Iyre divine,
Minnie's beauty singing;
Weave for me to-night
Fancies fine and glowing,
In a measure light,
Free and swiftly flowing:
Minnie claims a lay,
Love's own soul revealing—
Cold were they as clay,
Dead to poet's feeling,
Who could shun the task
Tenderly that woos them;
When such bright eyes ask,
Who could dare refuse them ?
CHORUS.
Minnie, fair and young,
Would—oh, would to heaven,
That an angel's tongue
Unto me were given
I would paint thy face
As it looks this minute—
Truth, and Love, and Grace
Making sunshine in it.
Of thy form and soul,
Ev'ry feature single,
Into one bright whole
I would sweetly mingle:
Brightly glancing eyes,
Cheeks of bloom unfaded—
Brow, like moonlit skies,
By no clouding shaded—
Pure heart beating light,
Tired of goodness never—
Mind, where Genius bright
Plays and sparkles ever—
All should blended be,
Mind, and heart, and feature,
By a pencil free,
Bold, yet true to nature.
CHORUS. Minnie, fair and young, &c.
Once, when Care would lower
O'er the soul of gladness,
Ruby wine had power
To drown all its sadness,
To its draught I flew,
Sure from thence to borrow
Joys, though fleeting, true,
To make bright the morrow—
Now with saddened heart
Where no lamps are shining,
From the gay apart,
I sit sadly pining;—
'Tis for thee I pine,
On the earth low kneeling,
To that heart of thine,
Shrine of love and feeling.
CHOROUS. Minnie, fair and young, &c.
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