Thomas Haynes Bayly

There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.

There is a method in man's wickedness:
It grows up by degrees.

Oh! no! we never mention her,
Her name is never heard;
My lips are now forbid to read more

Oh! no! we never mention her,
Her name is never heard;
My lips are now forbid to speak
That once familiar word.
- Thomas Haynes Bayly,

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content read more

Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade
Of the leaf where you slumbered all day;
Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth,
And make use of your wings while you may.
. . . .
But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite,
They at last found it dangerous play;
Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth,
Only dazzle to lead us astray.

Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,
And many friends I've met;
Not one fair scene or read more

Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands,
And many friends I've met;
Not one fair scene or kindly smile
Can this fond heart forget.