Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1823.pdf/114



113 Literary Gazette 27th September 1823, Page 619

MY HARP! Come, gentle harp, and let me hold Communion with thy melody, And be my tale of sorrow told To thee, my harp, and only thee.

There are who marvel I should twine My wreath of flowers, whose bloom is gone; And wonder hand so light as mine Should linger but on sorrow's tone.

They say that life, to one so young, Must be a sweet and sunny view; They know not how my soul has clung To hope, and found that hope untrue;

They know not that a smile for me    Is but the feigning masquer's art,— That each low note I draw from thee Is the sad echo of my heart.