The works of Lord Byron A new, revised and enlarged edition, with illustrations. Edited by Ernest Hartley Coleridge and R. E. Prothero |
![]() | I. |
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![]() | II. |
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![]() | IV. |
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![]() | The works of Lord Byron | ![]() |
MY SOUL IS DARK.
I
My soul is dark—Oh! quickly stringThe harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear.
If in this heart a hope be dear,
That sound shall charm it forth again:
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'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain.
II
But bid the strain be wild and deep,Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,
Or else this heavy heart will burst;
For it hath been by sorrow nursed,
And ached in sleepless silence long;
And now 'tis doomed to know the worst,
And break at once—or yield to song.
![]() | The works of Lord Byron | ![]() |