1 When
the lamp is shattered The
light in the dust lies dead— When
the cloud is scattered The
rainbow’s glory is shed. When
the lute is broken, Sweet
tones are remembered not; When
the lips have spoken, Loved
accents are soon forgot. 2 As
music and splendor Survive
not the lamp and the lute, The
heart’s echoes render No
song when the spirit is mute: — No
song but sad dirges, Like
the wind through a ruined cell, Or
the mournful surges That
ring the dead seaman’s knell. 3 When
hearts have once mingled Love
first leaves the well-built nest; The
weak one is singled To
endure what it once possessed. O
love! who bewailest The
frailty of all things here, Why
choose you the frailest For
your cradle, your home, and your bier? 4 Its
passions will rock thee As
the storms rock the ravens on high; Bright
reason will mock thee, Like
the sun from a wintry sky. From
thy nest every home Will
not, and thine eagle home Leave
thee naked to laughter, When
leaves fall and cold winds come. 1822. |
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