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 dye,

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.

THY DAYS ARE DONE.

I.

THY DAYS ARE DONE, thy fame begun;

Thy country's strains record

The triumphs of her chosen Son,

The slaughters of his sword!

The deeds he did, the fields he won,

The freedom he restored!

II.

Though thou art fall'n, while we are free

Thou shalt not taste of death!

The

generous blood that flowed from thee

Disdain'd to sink beneath :

Within our veins its currents be,

Thy spirit on our breath!