Poems (Toke)/Song (Oh, lady! sing that song again)
For works with similar titles, see Song.
H, lady! sing that song again,
For cold the heart must be
That thrills not to thy melting voice
With echoing harmony:
I cannot pour, as others do,
Loud praises in thine ear,
I can but feel each melting note,
And thank thee with a tear.
SONG.
H, lady! sing that song again,For cold the heart must be
That thrills not to thy melting voice
With echoing harmony:
I cannot pour, as others do,
Loud praises in thine ear,
I can but feel each melting note,
And thank thee with a tear.
There is a music in thy voice,
A mournful, dreamy tone,
That gives thee power to soothe and charm,
With magic all thine own.
Old memories waken from their sleep,
Sweet thoughts of all most dear,—
And I can only own thy spell,
And thank thee with a tear.
A mournful, dreamy tone,
That gives thee power to soothe and charm,
With magic all thine own.
Old memories waken from their sleep,
Sweet thoughts of all most dear,—
And I can only own thy spell,
And thank thee with a tear.
For though within mine own old home
Thy voice was never heard,
Yet dreams of youth and other days
With every note are stirred;
Far distant voices sound again,
Beloved forms are near:
I can but bless thy melting tones,
And thank thee with a tear.
Thy voice was never heard,
Yet dreams of youth and other days
With every note are stirred;
Far distant voices sound again,
Beloved forms are near:
I can but bless thy melting tones,
And thank thee with a tear.
E.
October, 1847,