They coaxed him and pulled him, and though he was shy,
They would not release him until he would try;
But his voice had the ring of a poor, distressed call,
And the wail of his song was pathetic to all,
For the eyes of Selina had pierced the boy’s heart;
’Twas also her smile that had speeded the dart.
Poor Dolor was love-sick, as ev’ry one knew,
And his sad song was drowned in the tears that it drew.
TIM DOLOR’S SONG
Oh! mother, mother, my poor heart