Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SONG-VISION, by HORACE SMITH



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THE SONG-VISION, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Oh, warble not that fearful air!
Last Line: By its unhallowed gaiety.
Alternate Author Name(s): Smith, Horatio
Subject(s): Memory; Pain; Singing & Singers; Tears; Suffering; Misery


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.





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