My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string
The harp I yet can brook to hear;
And let thy gentle fingers fling
Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. --
If in this heart a hope be dear
That sound shall charm it forth again --
If in these eyes there lurk a tear
'Twill flow -- and cease to burn my brain --

But bid the strain be wild and deep
Nor let thy notes of joy be first:
I tell thee -- Minstrel! I must weep
Or else this heavy heart will burst --
For it hath been by sorrow nurst
And ached in sleepless silence long --
And now 'tis doom'd to know the worst
And break at once -- or yield to song