 | Fifty lyrical ballads |  |
OH! LEAVE ME TO MY SORROW.
Oh! leave me to my sorrow,
For my heart is oppress'd to-day;
Oh! leave me,—and to-morrow
Dark shadows may pass away:
There's a time when all that grieves us
Is felt with a deeper gloom;
There's a time when Hope deceives us,
And we dream of bright days to come.
For my heart is oppress'd to-day;
Oh! leave me,—and to-morrow
Dark shadows may pass away:
There's a time when all that grieves us
Is felt with a deeper gloom;
There's a time when Hope deceives us,
And we dream of bright days to come.
45
In winter, from the mountain
The stream in a torrent flows;
In summer, the same fountain
Is calm as a child's repose:
Thus, in grief, the first pangs wound us,
And tears of despair gush on;
Time brings forth new flowers around us,
And the tide of our grief is gone!
The stream in a torrent flows;
In summer, the same fountain
Is calm as a child's repose:
Thus, in grief, the first pangs wound us,
And tears of despair gush on;
Time brings forth new flowers around us,
And the tide of our grief is gone!
Then heed not my pensive hours,
Nor bid me be cheerful now;
Can sunshine raise the flowers
That droop on a blighted bough?
The lake in the tempest wears not
The brightness it's slumber wore;
The heart of the mourner cares not
For joys that were dear before.
Nor bid me be cheerful now;
Can sunshine raise the flowers
That droop on a blighted bough?
The lake in the tempest wears not
The brightness it's slumber wore;
The heart of the mourner cares not
For joys that were dear before.
| Fifty lyrical ballads | |