 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
The Willow Warbler
Sweet, soft, and low, in wood and lane
The Willow Warbler weaves its chain
Of melody—a plaintive song
That seems to breathe of ancient wrong
And dimly-recollected pain.
The Willow Warbler weaves its chain
Of melody—a plaintive song
That seems to breathe of ancient wrong
And dimly-recollected pain.
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Its melting cadences retain
Your ear again and yet again,
Through notes more clear and blithe and strong—
Sweet, soft, and low.
Your ear again and yet again,
Through notes more clear and blithe and strong—
Sweet, soft, and low.
Thus after Life's most happy strain
A minor music will remain,
Recurring oft and lingering long,
And heard the gayest scenes among;
Of lost joys hinting not in vain—
Sweet, soft, and low.
A minor music will remain,
Recurring oft and lingering long,
And heard the gayest scenes among;
Of lost joys hinting not in vain—
Sweet, soft, and low.
| Lyra Pastoralis | |