OH, warble not that fearful air! For sweet and sprightly though it be, It wakes in me a deep despair By its unhallowed gaiety. It was the last my Fanny sung, The last enchanting playful strain, That breathed from that melodious tongue, Which none shall ever hear again. From Memory's fount what pleasures past At that one vocal summons flow; Bliss which I vainly thought would last -- Bliss which but deepens present woe! Where art thou, Fanny! can the tomb Have chilled that heart so fond and warm -- Have turned to dust that cheek of bloom -- Those eyes of light -- that angel form? Ah no! the grave resigns its prey: See, see! my Fanny's sitting there; While on the harp her fingers play A prelude to my favourite air. There is the smile which ever blessed The gaze of mine enamoured eye -- The lips that I so oft have pressed In tribute for that melody. She moves them now to sing! -- hark, hark! But ah! no voice delights mine ears: And now she fades in shadows dark; -- Or am I blinded by my tears? Stay yet awhile, my Fanny, stay, Nor from these outstretched arms depart; -- 'Tis gone! the vision's snatched away! I feel it by my breaking heart. Lady, forgive this burst of pain, That seeks a sad and short relief, In coining from a 'wildered brain A solace for impassioned grief. But sing no more that fearful air, For sweet and sprightly though it be, It wakes in me a deep despair, By its unhallowed gaiety. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD BRIDGE AT FLORENCE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A WHITE ROSE by JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY MUSIC, FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE WORLD (1) by HENRY VAUGHAN THE HYMNARY: 324. WHITSUNTIDE by ADAM OF SAINT VICTOR AUTUMNAL SONNET by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 22. 'TIS HONOURABLE TO BE LOVE'S MARTYR by PHILIP AYRES |