Magnet

The magic charm that drew me on,

Was not thine eyes' resistless spell,

And not thy gleaming golden hair

Nor that sweet form I know so well.

The magic power that drew me on

Was just thy voice's tender tone,

The nightingale had taught thee, sweet

That soothed my weary heart alone.

'Twas but thy pale and gentle face,

And just one tear that fell again,

Betraying that thy inmost soul

Was filled with a nameless pain, sore pain.