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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A SONG (1), by                    
First Line: Tell me not of joys departed
Last Line: Wither'd by no sigh, no tear!

Tell me not of joys departed,
Or of childhood's happy hour!
When unconsciously I sported,
Fresh as morning's dewy flower!
Tell me not of fair hopes blasted,
Or of unrequited love!
Tell me not of fortune wasted,
Or the web which Fate hath wove!
One fond wish I long have cherish'd,
I have twined it round my heart!
While all other hopes have perish'd,
I with that could never part.
On life's troubled, stormy ocean
That bright star still shone serene!
To that star, my heart's devotion
Rose, at morning, and at e'en!
And the hope that led me onward,
Like a beacon shining brigh,,
Was -- that when this form had moulder'd
I might wake to realms of light!
Wake to bliss -- that changes never!
Wake no more to hope or fear!
Wake to joys that bloom for ever!
Wither'd by no sigh, no tear!

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