 | The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay |  |
182
THE EOLIAN HARP.
I
Through the summer nightComes a melancholy sprite,
Fitful as a light
On the billowy seas;—
At my window lone
It awakes a mournful tone,
Rising, falling, failing in sweet melodies.
Tell me, why dost borrow
Such a voice of sorrow,
Spirit at my casement, moaning 'mid the trees?
II
Wherefore seek to know?Forests sigh when wild winds blow,
And the torrent's flow
Dies in plaintive song;
Nature's voice appears
As if, touch'd by human tears,
'Twere a dirge of pity for our human wrong;
Ocean moans for ever;
Sadly falls the river;
And all the vagrant storms the notes of grief prolong.
III
Breathe, O summer air;Music never spoke despair;
And thy sighs declare
Comfort 'mid our pain.
183
Hidden in the flower and leaf
Are the autumn treasures—fruit and golden grain.
Sigh, O wind of summer,
Sweet uncertain comer,—
Sympathy for sorrow hallows all the strain.
| The Collected Songs of Charles Mackay | |