TAKE, TAKE ONCE MORE THY SILV'RY LUTE.
I
Take, take once more thy silv'ry lute
And sing the song I love to hear.
Oh, never 'till those lips are mute
Shall cease that song my soul to cheer!
'Tis not alone its witching strain:
There lies a charm within the chords,
Then breathe it to thy lute again,
Then breathe it to thy lute again!
II
When first I heard that spell-wove song,
It was at twilight's tender hour;
Our hearts were light, our hopes were young,
I heard, I loved, and owned their power:
And still to me, whene'er it swells,
Their wonted spell its notes retain.
Of love and thee their music tells,
Oh, breathe it to thy lute again!
