 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
TO MARIA.
Awake again thy witching lyre,
Its tones have slept too long;
But thy sweet touches, dear Maria,
Can call a spirit from the wire,
With eyes of light and lips of fire—
Oh wake him into song.
Its tones have slept too long;
But thy sweet touches, dear Maria,
Can call a spirit from the wire,
With eyes of light and lips of fire—
Oh wake him into song.
Why should the sweetest gift of Jove
In useless silence lie,
When thou canst make it speak and move,
To charm our grief, inspire our love,
And raise our thoughts to things above,
Why, sweet Maria—why?
In useless silence lie,
When thou canst make it speak and move,
To charm our grief, inspire our love,
And raise our thoughts to things above,
Why, sweet Maria—why?
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Why brood o'er past affliction's smart,
With sad and tearful eye,
When thine is the bewitching art,
The sweetest rapture to impart,
And kindle joy in every heart,
Why, loved Maria—why?
With sad and tearful eye,
When thine is the bewitching art,
The sweetest rapture to impart,
And kindle joy in every heart,
Why, loved Maria—why?
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |