SAY NOT MY HEART IS COLD
I
“Say not my heart is cold,
Because of a silent tongue!
The lute of faultless mould
In silence oft hath hung.
The fountain soonest spent
Doth babble down the steep;
But the stream that ever went
Is silent, strong, and deep.
II
“The charm of a secret life
Is given to choicest things:—
Of flowers, the fragrance rife
Is wafted on viewless wings;
We see not the charmed air
Bearing some witching sound;
And ocean deep is where
The pearl of price is found.
III
“Where are the stars by day?
They burn, though all unseen!
And love of purest ray
Is like the stars, I ween:
Unmark'd is the gentle light
When the sunshine of joy appears,
But ever, in sorrow's night,
'T will glitter upon thy tears!”
“Well, Randal, does that poem satisfy your critical taste?—of the singing there can be but one opinion.”
“Yes, I think it pretty,” said Moriarty; “but there is one word in the last verse I object to.”
“Which is that?” inquired Growling.