WRAPT in sad musings, by Euphrates' stream I sat, retracing days for ever flown, While rose thine image on the exile's dream, O much-loved Salem! and thy glories gone: When they, who caused the ceaseless tears I shed, Thus to their captive spoke, -- "Why sleep thy lays? "Sing of thy treasures lost, thy splendour fled, "And all thy triumphs in departed days! "Know'st thou not, Harmony's resistless charm "Can soothe each passion, and each grief disarm? "Sing then, and tears will vanish from thine eye." With sighs I answered, -- When the cup of woe Is filled, till misery's bitter draught o'erflow, The mourner's cure is not to sing -- but die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON HIS BEING [OR, HAVING] ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE by JOHN MILTON ON CHLORIS WALKING IN THE SNOW by WILLIAM STRODE O YOU WHOM I OFTEN AND SILENTLY COME by WALT WHITMAN THE PRAIRIE-GRASS DIVIDING by WALT WHITMAN VERSES WRITTEN IN AN ALCOVE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE BOSPHORUS REVISITED by SEYMOUR GREEN WHEELER BENJAMIN MISAPPELLATION by STEPHANIE L. BINCKLI |