 | Poems |  |
27
IMPROMPTU,
ON BEING ASKED FOR A FEW LINES TO ACCOMPANY A CANARY BIRD, SENT AS FROM A LOVER TO HIS MISTRESS.
'T is only song can utter love,
Its agonies and blisses;
For song, too, springeth from above,
Far, far from sin's abysses.
Its agonies and blisses;
For song, too, springeth from above,
Far, far from sin's abysses.
28
Alas for me! I cannot sing,
And yet love will be spoken:
O, for the poet's golden string!
My heart will else be broken.
And yet love will be spoken:
O, for the poet's golden string!
My heart will else be broken.
I'll send my bird to speak my part,
O, hearken to his singing!
And when 't would seem he 'd burst his heart,
Think that with mine 't is ringing.
O, hearken to his singing!
And when 't would seem he 'd burst his heart,
Think that with mine 't is ringing.
| Poems | |