Adnax Publications

George Gordon, Lord Byron

 < My Soul is Dark >


Hebrew Melodies (1815, 27)

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. 
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 nursed, 
And ached in sleepless silence, long; 
And now 'tis doomed to know the worst, 
And break at once - or yield to song.

 

go to index of poems

copyright © Adnax Publications, all rights reserved