The Soul That Was Shrouded
THE SOUL THAT WAS SHROUDED .
I.
The soul that was shrouded in sorrow's dark night
A peace-promising beam woke to gladness and light;
And the lute, that so long lorn and tuneless had hung,
Once more with the wild notes of melody rung!
II.
Ah! why did that beam only shine to beguile, —
Ah! why did it teach the fond mourner to smile?
Why faithlessly grant him a seeming reprieve,
Then leave him in sadness still deeper to grieve?
III.
The light is gone by — and the music is o'er,
And the feelings so lovely — are lovely no more;
That soul, once again, its dark vigils is keeping,
And the Lute neath the cold chain of Silence is sleeping!
I.
The soul that was shrouded in sorrow's dark night
A peace-promising beam woke to gladness and light;
And the lute, that so long lorn and tuneless had hung,
Once more with the wild notes of melody rung!
II.
Ah! why did that beam only shine to beguile, —
Ah! why did it teach the fond mourner to smile?
Why faithlessly grant him a seeming reprieve,
Then leave him in sadness still deeper to grieve?
III.
The light is gone by — and the music is o'er,
And the feelings so lovely — are lovely no more;
That soul, once again, its dark vigils is keeping,
And the Lute neath the cold chain of Silence is sleeping!
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