 | Poems by Two Brothers |  |
11
‘YES—THERE BE SOME GAY SOULS WHO NEVER WEEP’
“O Lachrymarum fons, tenero sacros
“Ducentium ortus ex animo.”
Gray's Poemata.
“Ducentium ortus ex animo.”
Gray's Poemata.
Yes—there be some gay souls who never weep,
And some, who, weeping, hate the tear they shed;
But sure in them the heart's fine feelings sleep,
And all its loveliest attributes are dead.
And some, who, weeping, hate the tear they shed;
But sure in them the heart's fine feelings sleep,
And all its loveliest attributes are dead.
For oh! to feel it swelling to the eye,
When melancholy thoughts have sent it there,
Is something so a-kin to ecstacy,
So true a balm to misery and care,
When melancholy thoughts have sent it there,
Is something so a-kin to ecstacy,
So true a balm to misery and care,
That those are cold, I ween, who cannot feel
The soft, the sweet, the exquisite control,
Which tears, as down the moisten'd cheek they steal,
Hold o'er the yielding empire of the soul.
The soft, the sweet, the exquisite control,
Which tears, as down the moisten'd cheek they steal,
Hold o'er the yielding empire of the soul.
12
They soothe, they ease, and they refine the breast,
And blunt the agonizing stings of grief,
And lend the tortur'd mind a healing rest,
A welcome opiate, and a kind relief.
And blunt the agonizing stings of grief,
And lend the tortur'd mind a healing rest,
A welcome opiate, and a kind relief.
Then, if the pow'r of woe thou wouldst disarm,
The tear thy burning wounds will gently close;
The rage of grief will sink into a calm,
And her wild frenzy find the wish'd repose.
The tear thy burning wounds will gently close;
The rage of grief will sink into a calm,
And her wild frenzy find the wish'd repose.
C.T.(?)
| Poems by Two Brothers | |