The hollow bell from yonder giant tower
Tolls out my doom!—Pass we the waning hour
In tears or song away?
In song—my fingers clasp the lyre in death—
My spirit, swanlike, with departing breath
To worlds unseen lifts her melodious cry:—
How should the soul, of music wrought above,
Save in the strains of harmony and love,
Pour forth her farewell sigh?
The lyre in breaking yields its loftiest sound;