 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
I HAD A LYRE.
I had a lyre when hope was young,
But 'twas the plaything of a child;
Of LOVE I then delighted sung,
And swept its chords with transport wild.
But 'twas the plaything of a child;
Of LOVE I then delighted sung,
And swept its chords with transport wild.
But now its tones I can not swell,
Its spirit and its voice have fled,
That lyre is but a tuneless shell,
For I have sold its chords for BREAD.
Its spirit and its voice have fled,
That lyre is but a tuneless shell,
For I have sold its chords for BREAD.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |