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| II. |
 | Miscellanies (1785) |  |
HER BROTHER's LYRE
TO MRS. SHERIDAN.
This said—a solemn silence breath'd around,
Cecilia wept upon her Lycid's lyre,
The pensive breeze then gave a sighing sound,
And the strings seem'd to tremble and expire.
Cecilia wept upon her Lycid's lyre,
The pensive breeze then gave a sighing sound,
And the strings seem'd to tremble and expire.
One hollow murmur, like the dying moan,
Was heard to vibrate then, with pauses slow,
From the sad instrument, when thus the tone
Gave modulations of a softer woe.
Was heard to vibrate then, with pauses slow,
From the sad instrument, when thus the tone
Gave modulations of a softer woe.
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“Cease, beauteous mourner! partner of my grief!
Tuneful associate of my last despair,
Thou, only thou, can'st bring this breast relief;
Thy sympathy alone can soothe my care.
Tuneful associate of my last despair,
Thou, only thou, can'st bring this breast relief;
Thy sympathy alone can soothe my care.
“What though—ah, stroke severe! our Lycid's dead,
No more, alas! can ravish mortal ear;
What though the soul of melody is fled,
His blest attendant to th' harmonious sphere,
No more, alas! can ravish mortal ear;
What though the soul of melody is fled,
His blest attendant to th' harmonious sphere,
“Struck by Cecilia's hand I yet may live;
Her magick touch again can tune my frame;
Her cherub voice my spirit yet revive,
And sounds of heavenly sorrow grace my fame.
Her magick touch again can tune my frame;
Her cherub voice my spirit yet revive,
And sounds of heavenly sorrow grace my fame.
“But should nor dulcet song, nor music's art,
Nor social sighs, which mourn the youth we love,
Have power to heal the sister's wounded heart,
Nor to these chords forlorn a solace prove:
Nor social sighs, which mourn the youth we love,
Have power to heal the sister's wounded heart,
Nor to these chords forlorn a solace prove:
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“Ah! still together let our sorrows join,
And this sad form yet boast thy gentle aid;
Lycid's companion sure should still be thine;
Still should'st thou kiss the strings where he has play'd.”
And this sad form yet boast thy gentle aid;
Lycid's companion sure should still be thine;
Still should'st thou kiss the strings where he has play'd.”
| Miscellanies (1785) | |