Prairie Flowers Composed by J. P. Webster. [No. 5 of 12] "Come to Me, Darling, My Sorrows to Lighten" (1858) Words by Charles Brennan Music by Joseph Philbrick Webster, 1819-1875 The following exquisite love song is the exposition of Joseph Brennan, a young Irish- man, one of the exiles of '48, who died recently of consumption in New Orleans at the age of eight- and twenty. Chicago, IL: HIGGINS BROTHERS, No. 15 Luke St. Engraver: Pearson, N.Y. [Source: Indiana State Library] 1. Come to me, dearest, I’m lonely without thee, Daytime and nighttime I’m thinking about thee; Nighttime and daytime in dreams I behold thee Unwelcome the waking which ceases to fold thee. Come to me, darling, my sorrows to lighten, Come in thy beauty to bless and to brighten, Come in thy womanhood, meekly and lowly, Come in thy lovingness, queenly and holy! 2. Swallows will flit round the desolate ruin,— Telling of Spring and its joyous renewing; And thoughts of thy love and its manifold treasure Are circling my heart with a promise of pleasure. Oh, Spring of my spirit, oh, May of my bosom, Shine out on my soul till it bourgeon and blossom— The waste of my life has a roseroot within it, And shy fondness alone to the sunshine can win it. 3. Figures that move like a song through the even— Features lit up by a reflex of heaven— Eyes like the skies of pour Erin, our mother, Where shadow and sunshine are chasing each other; Smiles coming seldom, but childlike and simplel Planting in each rosy cheek a sweet dimple,— Oh, thanks to the Saviour, that even thy seeming Is left to the exile to brighten his dreaming! 4. You have been glad when you know I was gladdenned— Dear, are you sad now to hear I am saddened? Our hearts ever answer in tune and time love, As octave to octave and rhyme unto rhyme love; I cannot weep but your tears will be flowing— You cannot smile but my cheek will be glowing— I would not die without you at my side, love— You will not linger when I shall have died, love. 5. Come to me, dear, ere I die of sorrow, Rise on my gloom like the sun of tomorrow; Strung, swift and fond as the words which I speak, love, With a song on your lip and a smile on your cheek, love; Come, for my heart in your absence is weary— Haste, for my spirit is sickened and dreary— Come to the arms which alone should caress thee— Come to the heart which is troubling to press thee.