Oh strike the Harp.
Oh! strike the harp, while yet there lies
In Music's breath the power to please;
And if the tears should fill mine eyes,
They can but give my bosom ease.
But hush the notes of Love and Mirth,
Too welcome to my heart before;
For now those airs that breathe of earth
Can charm my pensive soul no more.
Yes, I have loved the world too well,
And roved in Pleasure's train too long;
And I have felt her sweetest spell
In Beauty's smile, and Passion's song.
But now my soul would break her chains,
While yet perhaps the grace is given;
Then strike the Harp in Zion's strains,
And she shall soar at once to heaven.