 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
270
A SONG.
[O youth, O love, O spring!]
O youth, O love, O spring!
I hear the copses ring,
As long ago in happy days of yore,
When like the birds my joyous heart did sing;
Alas! it sings no more.
I hear the copses ring,
As long ago in happy days of yore,
When like the birds my joyous heart did sing;
Alas! it sings no more.
Ah, now 'tis still and mute,
Like some poor broken lute,
Whose chords no hand shall e'er again sweep o'er,
Which lies unstrung, neglected, at the foot,—
Silent for evermore.
Like some poor broken lute,
Whose chords no hand shall e'er again sweep o'er,
Which lies unstrung, neglected, at the foot,—
Silent for evermore.
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |