 | Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] |  |
57
THAT MOCKING LIP.
“And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep; and if I weep,
'Tis that our nature cannot always bring
Itself to apathy.”—
Byron.
'Tis that I may not weep; and if I weep,
'Tis that our nature cannot always bring
Itself to apathy.”—
Byron.
I
That mocking lip—those sparkling words,But hide the inward smart;
As cypress twines around the chords
Which vibrate o'er the heart.
II
How oft our hidden agonyIs shrouded by a jest!
The world within would fain belie
Itself with seeming rest.
III
The flushing cheek—the kindling eye—Has misery beneath;
A vein of bitterness may lie
Above the shades of death.
IV
Oh! heed not then the loudest laugh,There—lurks the deepest woe;
The wreathed cup we seek to quaff
Is dash'd with Marah's flow.
| Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] | |