My soul is dark - Oh! quickly string <br />The harp I yet can brook to hear; <br />And let thy gentle fingers fling <br />Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. <br />If in this heart a hope be dear, <br />That sound shall charm it forth again: <br />If in these eyes there lurk a tear, <br />'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain. <br /> <br />But bid the strain be wild and deep, <br />Nor let thy notes of joy be first: <br />I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep, <br />Or else this heavy heart will burst; <br />For it hath been by sorrow nursed, <br />And ached in sleepless silence, long; <br />And now 'tis doomed to know the worst, <br />And break at once - or yield to song.<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-soul-is-dark-2/
