The spirit of my song

Tell me, have you ever met her

Met the spirit of my song?

Have her wave like footsteps glided

Through the city's worldly throng?

You will know her by a wreath,

Woven all of starry light,

That is lying mid her hair

Braided hair as dark as night.

Tell me, have you ever met her

Met the spirit of my song?

Have her wave like footsteps glided

Through the city's worldly throng?

A short band of radiant summers

Is upon her forehead laid,

Twining half in golden sunlight,

Sleeping hair in dreamy shade:

Five white fingers clasp a lyre,

Five its silv'ry strings awake,

And bewildering to the soul

Is the music that they make.

Tell me have you ever met her

Met the spirit &c.

Though her glances sleep like shadows

'Neath each falling, silken lash,

Yes, at aught that wakes resentment,

They magnificently flash.

Though you loved such dewy dream-light,

And such glance of sweet surprise,

You could never bear the scorn

Of those proud and brilliant eyes.

Tell me &c

There's a sweet and winning cunning

In her bright lip's crimson hue,

And a flitting tint of roses

From her soft cheek gleaming through:

Do you think that you have met her?

She is young and pure and fair,

And she wears a wreath of starlight

In her braided ebon hair.

Tell me, have you ever me her &c.

Often at her feet I'm sitting,

With my head upon her knee,

While she tells me dreams of beauty

In low words of melody:

And, when my unskillful fingers

Strive her silvery lyre to wake,

She will smooth my tresses, smiling

At the discord which I make.

Tell me &c

But of late days I have missed her

The bright being of my love

And perchance she's stolen pinions

And has floated up above.

Tell me have you ever met her

Met the spirit of my song?

Have her wavelike footsteps glided

Through the city's worldly throng?