The Fairy-Form'd Harp
There was a harp of old that hung
In fairy woods, — and youths of fire
Would touch the string, and, as they sung,
Breathe forth their inmost heart's desire.
Then swift the harp an answer made,
An answer ne'er to be forgot,
And told the swain the bashful maid
Was his alone, — or she was not.
Oh, were that harp existing now,
I would not seek its wild decree,
I'd trust unto my Mary's vow,
That she exists alone for me.
I'd sooner trust her glancing eye,
Which hath for me a sun-shine wore,
Than hear the truth with heart-felt sigh,
Waking from love, — to love no more!
In fairy woods, — and youths of fire
Would touch the string, and, as they sung,
Breathe forth their inmost heart's desire.
Then swift the harp an answer made,
An answer ne'er to be forgot,
And told the swain the bashful maid
Was his alone, — or she was not.
Oh, were that harp existing now,
I would not seek its wild decree,
I'd trust unto my Mary's vow,
That she exists alone for me.
I'd sooner trust her glancing eye,
Which hath for me a sun-shine wore,
Than hear the truth with heart-felt sigh,
Waking from love, — to love no more!
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