Poetry Archives

Whatever I have said or sung,
  Some bitter notes my harp would give,
  Yea, tho’ there often seem’d to live
A contradiction on the tongue,

Yet Hope had never lost her youth;
  She did but look through dimmer eyes;
  Or Love but play’d with gracious lies,
Because he felt so fix’d in truth:

And if the song were full of care,
  He breathed the spirit of the song;
  And if the words were sweet and strong
He set his royal signet there;

Abiding with me till I sail
  To seek thee on the mystic deeps,
  And this electric force, that keeps
A thousand pulses dancing, fail.