MY soul is dark -- Oh! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again: If in these eyes there lurk a tear, 'T will flow, and cease to burn my brain. But bid the strain be wild and deep, Nor let thy notes of joy be first: I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep, Or else this heavy heart will burst; For it hath been by sorrow nursed, And ached in sleepless silence long; And now 't is doom'd to know the worst, And break at once -- or yield to song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LILIES: 10. SOUL-PAIN by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: A VISION by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON IMPROMPTU ON AN INNKEEPER NAMED BACON by ROBERT BURNS PRACTISING THE ANTHEM by ADA CAMBRIDGE REJUVENATION by ALICE LOUISE CARY LITTLE PAPOOSE by HILDA CONKLING THE HEART - THE HEART by ELIZA COOK |