Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/207

 MISCBLLA EOUS POB]ttS. 187 THE UNTUNED HEART. NAY, do not wake the lyre again ! For to a heart, unstrung as mine, The softest, sweetest notes, in vain, Their wi/ching melody combine. The pulse of Joy, to lively toues, In smreless ecstasy, may bound, While Mirth the kimbed uunsum owm, And trips the gay, fantostia romid. To tender nnmbe Love may- me]t, To !oRy sinfins may Courage ; And, oh, how ot has Sorrow dwelt, Eno2nour'd, onthe pensive lyre ! To all, save me thy skill divine .Some touch respoive, my afford, But to a heart, unstrung as mine, All music owns no aM. wering chord. ......... Google

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