 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
THE UNSTRUNG LUTE.
ALAS! my HEART is like a lute—
A lute, unused, unstrung;
Its melody is hushed, and mute
The chords that erewhile rung!
A lute, unused, unstrung;
Its melody is hushed, and mute
The chords that erewhile rung!
Yet there is one can bid it wake
To life and joy once more—
One gentle hand the spell might break,
And bid its sleep be o'er!
To life and joy once more—
One gentle hand the spell might break,
And bid its sleep be o'er!
Alas! that hand strikes not its strings,
The lute forgotten lies—
Its chords are snapped!—no more it rings!—
The lute, unvalued, dies!
The lute forgotten lies—
Its chords are snapped!—no more it rings!—
The lute, unvalued, dies!
| Duganne's Poetical Works | |