The Poems of Charles Wolfe | ||
12
SONG.
[Oh say not that my heart is cold]
I
Oh say not that my heart is coldTo aught that once could warm it—
That Nature's form so dear of old
No more has power to charm it;
Or that th' ungenerous world can chill
One glow of fond emotion
For those who made it dearer still,
And shared my wild devotion.
II
Still oft those solemn scenes I viewIn rapt and dreamy sadness;
Oft look on those who loved them too
With fancy's idle gladness;
Again I longed to view the light
In Nature's features glowing;
Again to tread the mountain's height,
And taste the soul's o'erflowing.
13
III
Stern Duty rose, and frowning flungHis leaden chain around me;
With iron look and sullen tongue
He muttered as he bound me—
“The mountain breeze, the boundless heaven,
Unfit for toil the creature;
These for the free alone are given,—
But what have slaves with Nature?”
The Poems of Charles Wolfe | ||