Frame: The Second Provençal Bard

LED by a child whose sunny air,
And rosy cheek young Health might wear,
When rising from the mountain wave,
Fresh as the stream its freshness gave;
But gentle eyes, with softness fraught,
As if their tenderness they caught
From gazing on the pallid brow
Whose only light was from them now.
Beautiful it was to see
Such love in early infancy.
Far from the aged steps she led,
Long since the guiding light had fled;
And meek and sad the old man grew,
As nearer life's dark goal he drew;
All solace of such weary hour
Was that child's love, and his own power
O'er music's spirit, and the store
He treasured up of legend lore.

She led him gently to his seat,
And took her place beside his feet,
Up gazing with fond fixed eye,
Lest sigh should pass unnoticed by.
A clear rich prelude forth he rang,
Brightened his look as thus he sang;
The colour lit his forehead pale,
As the master told his ancient tale.