stanzas.
147
Stanzas.
Oh! there are other tears than those
Which tremble from the eye;
Oh! there are deep and silent woes
Which never deign to sigh.
The lips may wear a happy smile,
The cheek its roses keep,
The eye may sparkle glad the while,
And yet the heart may weep.
Which tremble from the eye;
Oh! there are deep and silent woes
Which never deign to sigh.
The lips may wear a happy smile,
The cheek its roses keep,
The eye may sparkle glad the while,
And yet the heart may weep.
The quiet of repose may seem
Upon the brow to rest,
And yet may foam the troubled stream
Of wormwood in the breast.
The features from the very strife
Of thought new bloom may take,
Yet, when all seems most pleasure rife,
The heart, the heart may break.
Upon the brow to rest,
And yet may foam the troubled stream
Of wormwood in the breast.
The features from the very strife
Of thought new bloom may take,
Yet, when all seems most pleasure rife,
The heart, the heart may break.
The lips of mirth, the joyous tone,
May hide a spirit bowed,
Which would not brook its woes to own,
For pity far too proud.
'Neath laughter ringing light and free
Grief's canker may be nurst;
Oh! mid each mockery of glee
The heart, the heart may burst.
May hide a spirit bowed,
Which would not brook its woes to own,
For pity far too proud.
'Neath laughter ringing light and free
Grief's canker may be nurst;
Oh! mid each mockery of glee
The heart, the heart may burst.
