One moment stay--why comest thou
With doleful ditty
Unbidden to my room;
Wee, dusky mourner, do not go,
But say--what is it claims thy pity,
And sets thee telling, telling
Such a solemn story
So to me,
As if there knelling, knelling
Of some departed glory
Dear to thee?
O sad musician, put aside thy fiddle,
And admit life is a riddle,
And Heaven holds the key.