from Lays of Melpomene, 1824
Lyre of my Love! for many a lonely hour
Thou hast breathed music o’er my sinking mind
And I have sought thee, when the world unkind
Crushed my fond hopes, in Love’s secluded bower,
And found thy chords possessed a magic power
O’er the dark workings of the soul; woes bind
The Memory unto joys life leaves behind,
And Fancy radiates the darkest lower
Of stormy being with rich light; howe’er
Rude and unpractised be the hand that strays
Thy golden wires among, thy plaintive lays
Oft from my soul have banished pain and fear,
And I have felt for many a lingering year
Of harrowing woe for one so young the days
More softly come and go, illumined by rays
Brighter than others, when my lyre was near.
Thou hast been faithful and I love thee well.
Go forth, ye orphan lays! ye have no guardian spell.