Ave! Once more touch the strings
That Memory may feed upon the strain,
And over-live again
The days,
When the heart gloried in the golden lays
That give the spirit wings.
Simpleyet how profound
The feeling that induces this deathless air!
Did heart-acheor depair,
Or dream,
Inspire its notes, that spread so charmd a stream
Of harmony around?
Sometimes the deep notes swell
Soft as a sighthe semitone of thought;
Yet sometimes seem they fraught
With fate
Storm-toned, spirit rousing, jarrd with hate,
And booming like a knell.
Wild, massy, swift and dark,
The clashing strains of harmony unite,
While oer their solemn flight,
One note
Of wandering sweetness doth serenely float,
Like love-call of the lark.
Those gloomy chords at last,
Roll wave-like through the caverns of the mind,
And mystically wind
Their way
Into dark thoughts, that rise in drear array
The ghost-dreams of the past.
And then the plaintive tone
Of pastoral pipe, or mountain brook, or bird,
In tranced thought is heard,
Until
The faint heart fails beneath the Masters skill,
And yearns to be alone.
Yet, lady! yet once more,
Bring back that branded train of hopes and fears,
The passion of past years,
The spell
That ruled my being in its inmost cell
And then sweet friend! give oer.
