Page:1808 Poems by Felicia Dorothea Browne.pdf/65

 

Oh! mistress of the melancholy song, I love to bend before thy sacred shrine; To thee my fondest early vows belong, For pity's melting tenderness is thine. Thine is the harp of wild expressive tone, ‘Tis thine to touch it with entrancing art; Till all thy numbers vibrate on the heart, And sympathy delights thy powers to own. Oh! sweetest muse of pity and of love, In artless song thy plaintive lyre I hail; Be mine to weep with thee o'er sorrow's tale, And oft thy pleasing visions may I prove. "Thou mistress of the melancholy song,   "To thee my fondest early vows belong."

 

