My soul is dark

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 --

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 ached in sleepless silence long --

And now 'tis doom'd to know the worst,

And break at once -- or yield to song.