Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 3.djvu/65

Rh AWAY, AWAY, YE NOTES OF WOE!

1., away, ye notes of Woe!

Be silent, thou once soothing Strain,

Or I must flee from hence—for, oh!

I dare not trust those sounds again.

To me they speak of brighter days—

But lull the chords, for now, alas!

I must not think, I may not gaze,

On what I am—on what I was.

2. The voice that made those sounds more sweet

Is hushed, and all their charms are fled;

And now their softest notes repeat

A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!

Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee,

dust! since dust thou art;

And all that once was Harmony

Is worse than discord to my heart!

3. 'Tis silent all!—but on my ear

The well remembered Echoes thrill;

I hear a voice I would not hear,

A voice that now might well be still: Variants Notes