THE INDIAN MAID.

A BALLAD.

SUNG BY MRS. WATSON,

THE MUSIC ARRANGED BY S. NELSON.

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Geo. W. Hewitt & Co. No. 184 Chesnut Street, Philadelphia.

Morning’s dawn is in the skies,

Whilst o’er the Mountain height,

Fast the glorious beams arise,

Hail we their golden light:

Ere the brightness of those rays

Dies on the distant sea,

May the hopes of my young days

Be warm’d to life by thee.

May the hopes of my young days

Be warm’d to life by thee.

2

Fairest flow’r ’neath eastern skies,

Stor’d in thy peaceful mind

More of wealth for me there lies

Than in the gems of Ind.

Never from thy trusting heart,

Ne’er from thy smiling brow

May the hopes, the peace depart

Which beam upon them now.

3

Hours and days will wing their flight,

Still never day shall fade;

But I’ll share some new delight

With thee, my Indian maid.

In the passing hour of gloom

Rest thou thy cares on me;

To restore thy pleasure’s bloom,

Will my best guerdon be.