 | Later Lays and Lyrics |  |
AN ÆOLIAN MELODY.
I.
My bosom has Æolian cords,That warble wildly to the soul,
And oft the strain takes form in words
That echo like a death-bell's toll;
Anon it makes my pulses beat
With power beyond expression sweet,
II.
The door of my sad heart it opes,And memories wake long cold and dead;
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Stir in their dark and mouldering bed—
Loved faces, in that heart enshrined,
Bring back the mournful Past to mind.
III.
Unearthly songs that long have slept,To chant defying mortal skill
Wake, when those bosom chords are swept
That soon will broken be, and still.
Alas! those chords, though finely strung,
Can never sing as they have sung.
IV.
Long have I walked beneath a cloud,The seal of doom upon my brow!
Off with these laurel wreaths! the shroud
Would best become the mortal now;
For one, long-loved, cannot be mine—
I stained with guilt—she half-divine.
V.
These bosom-chords in happier days,To joyous melodies kept time,
But now, attuned to saddest lays,
Alone with wailing voices chime;
Or make Æolian reply
To a lost soul's despairing cry.
| Later Lays and Lyrics | |