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George Gordon Byron - My Soul Is Dark
Work rating: Medium

My soul is dark--Oh! quickly string 
The harp I yet can brook to hear; 
And let thy gentle fingers fling 
Its melting murmurs o`er mine ear. 
If in this heart a hope be dear, 
That sound shall charm it forth again: 
If in these eyes there lurk a tear, 
`Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain. 

But bid the strain be wild and deep, 
Nor let thy notes of joy be first: 
I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep, 
Or else this heavy heart will burst; 
For it hath been by sorrow nursed, 
And ached in sleepless silence, long; 
And now `tis doomed to know the worst, 
And break at once--or yield to song.
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