26
Feels it not, for the sainted spirit soars aloft
To join its pure and kindred beings of the sky.
My wounded heart alone can tell how cold it is,
For it has stopp'd the current of my happiness,
And bound in icy fetters each sweet spring of joy.
Alas! no summer sun shall e'er unloose them now,
For that enliv'ning smile which once did bid them flow
Will beam no more: no, that sweet sun has set on earth,
And risen in brighter worlds to gild a fairer day.
To join its pure and kindred beings of the sky.
My wounded heart alone can tell how cold it is,
For it has stopp'd the current of my happiness,
And bound in icy fetters each sweet spring of joy.
Alas! no summer sun shall e'er unloose them now,
For that enliv'ning smile which once did bid them flow
Will beam no more: no, that sweet sun has set on earth,
And risen in brighter worlds to gild a fairer day.
