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II.
And oft by yon blue gushing stream

Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
And feed deep thought with many a dream,

And lingering pause and lightly tread;
Fond wretch! as if her step disturb’d the dead !

III.

Away; we know that tears are vain,

That death nor heeds nor hears distress :

Will this unteach us to complain?

Or make one mourner weep the less ?

And thou—who tell’st me to forget,

Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.

MY SOUL IS DARK.

I.

MY SOUL IS DARK-Oh! quickly string

The harp I yet can brook to hear; And let thy gentle fingers fling

Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear,

That sound shall charm it forth again ; If in these eyes there lurk a tear,

"Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain:

II.

But bid the strain be wild and deep,

Nor let thy notes of joy be first:

I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep,

Or else this heavy heart will burst;

For it hath been by sorrow nurst,

And ach'd in sleepless silence long;

And now 'tis doom'd to know the worst,

And break at once-or yield to song.

I SAW THEE WEEP.

I.

I SAW THEE WEEP—the big bright tear

Came o'er that eye of blue;
And then methought it did appear

A violet dropping dew :
I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze

Beside thee ceased to shine;

It could not match the living rays

That fill’d that glance of thine.

II.

As clouds from yonder sun receive

A deep and mellow die, Which scarce the shade of coming eve

Can banish from the sky,

Those smiles unto the moodiest mind

Their own pure joy impart;

Their sunshine leaves a glow behind

That lightens o'er the heart.

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