YOU think I have a merry heart, Because my songs are gay; But, oh! they all were taught to me By friends now far away; The bird retains his silver note, Though bondage chains his wing; His song is not a happy one, -- I'm saddest when I sing! I heard them first in that sweet home I never more shall see, And now each song of joy has got A plaintive turn for me! Alas! 'tis vain in winter time To mock the songs of spring, Each note recalls some wither'd leaf, -- I'm saddest when I sing! Of all the friends I used to love, My harp remains alone, Its faithful voice still seems to be An echo of my own: My tears, when I bend over it, Will fall upon its string, Yet those who hear me, little think I'm saddest when I sing! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SOLOMON TO SHEBA by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A FAREWELL by GEORGE GASCOIGNE AN EPITAPH ON A DUTCH CAPTAIN by PHILIP AYRES THE LIFE OF MAN by FRANCIS BACON FIRST CYCLE OF LOVE POEMS: 5 by GEORGE BARKER THE MURDERED TRAVELLER by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |