COME, take the harp -- 'tis vain to muse Upon the gathering ills we see; Oh! take the harp and let me lose All thoughts of ill in hearing thee! Sing to me, love! -- though death were near Thy song could make my soul forget -- Nay, nay, in pity dry that tear, All may be well, be happy yet! Let me but see that snowy arm Once more upon the dear harp lie, And I will cease to dream of harm, Will smile at fate, while thou art nigh! Give me that strain, of mournful touch, We used to love long, long ago, Before our hearts had known as much As now, alas! they bleed to know! Sweet notes! they tell of former peace, Of all, that look'd so rapturous then, Now wither'd, lost -- oh! pray thee, cease, I cannot bear those sounds again! Art thou, too, wretched? yes, thou art; I see thy tears flow fast with mine -- Come, come to this devoted heart, Tis breaking, but it still is thine! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WENDELL PHILLIPS by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT THOSE EVENING BELLS by THOMAS MOORE NEARER by ROBERT MALISE BOWYER NICHOLS CASSANDRA by RICHARD BARNFIELD FLOATING HEARTS by GEORGE BRADFORD BARTLETT CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 7. OF HOSPITALITY by WILLIAM BASSE PSALM 77 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SONG, FR. A VISION OF GIOGIONE: GEMMA'S SONG ON THE WATER by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |