BROKEN BARBITON.
147
Flooded with beauty; every isle that gleamed
In the deep sea, and every sweet star isle
That glittered in the blue sky, seemed a bright
Calypso of the heart, yet in that lone
And silent cottage home, the minstrel pale—
The wreath that he had purchased with the cries,
The wild shrieks of his spirit—and the lyre,
The sole companion of his life of toil,
His heart's dear idol—mouldered side by side,
Unheeded by the careless race of men.
In the deep sea, and every sweet star isle
That glittered in the blue sky, seemed a bright
Calypso of the heart, yet in that lone
And silent cottage home, the minstrel pale—
The wreath that he had purchased with the cries,
The wild shrieks of his spirit—and the lyre,
The sole companion of his life of toil,
His heart's dear idol—mouldered side by side,
Unheeded by the careless race of men.
Louisville, February, 1852.
