To F------
Dublin Core
Title
To F------
Description
I'd willing take the harp once more,
And strike its soul inspiring lays,
Its melody should o'er and o'er,
Responsive answer all thy praise.
But no, its chords, I may not wake,
For faint and sad would be the strain;
The tones so mournful, now that break,
Thou would'st not ask to hear again.
I'd willing breathe the song again,
For notes of friendship softly swell;
And sadly sweet, and long retain
The magic spell upon mine ear.
I seek not for the meed of praise,
Oh, no, but thou may'st welcome bring,
The theme of by-past happy days,
Friendship's pure, hallowed, offering.
----------------------
We owe our Correspondent "R," many apologies for having inadvertently omitted part of her communication. As an act of justice we reinsert the whole this week.
I'd willing take the harp once more,
And strike its soul inspiring lays,
Its melody should o'er and o'er,
Responsive answer all thy praise.
But no, its chords, I may not wake,
For faint and sad would be the strain;
The tones so mournful, now that break,
Thou would'st not ask to hear again.
I'd willing breathe the song again,
For notes of friendship softly swell;
And sadly sweet, and long retain
The magic charm we've known so well.
But, no, I've broke the silver'd chords,
And hush'd the song that thou would'st hear
Tho' sweet the airs, they now afford
No magic spell upon mine ear.
I seek not for the meed of praise,
Oh, no, but thou may'st welcome bring,
The theme of by-past happy days,
Friendship's pure, hallowed, offering.
And strike its soul inspiring lays,
Its melody should o'er and o'er,
Responsive answer all thy praise.
But no, its chords, I may not wake,
For faint and sad would be the strain;
The tones so mournful, now that break,
Thou would'st not ask to hear again.
I'd willing breathe the song again,
For notes of friendship softly swell;
And sadly sweet, and long retain
The magic spell upon mine ear.
I seek not for the meed of praise,
Oh, no, but thou may'st welcome bring,
The theme of by-past happy days,
Friendship's pure, hallowed, offering.
----------------------
We owe our Correspondent "R," many apologies for having inadvertently omitted part of her communication. As an act of justice we reinsert the whole this week.
I'd willing take the harp once more,
And strike its soul inspiring lays,
Its melody should o'er and o'er,
Responsive answer all thy praise.
But no, its chords, I may not wake,
For faint and sad would be the strain;
The tones so mournful, now that break,
Thou would'st not ask to hear again.
I'd willing breathe the song again,
For notes of friendship softly swell;
And sadly sweet, and long retain
The magic charm we've known so well.
But, no, I've broke the silver'd chords,
And hush'd the song that thou would'st hear
Tho' sweet the airs, they now afford
No magic spell upon mine ear.
I seek not for the meed of praise,
Oh, no, but thou may'st welcome bring,
The theme of by-past happy days,
Friendship's pure, hallowed, offering.
Creator
R.
Source
2:7, p. 54; 2:8, p. 58
Date
1828.05.09
Collection
Citation
R., “To F------,” Periodical Poets, accessed May 8, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/135.
Comments