This burning heart more worthy thee!
Years have gone by—the laurel droops
In mock’ry o’er my cheerless brow;
A conquer’d world before me stoops,
And Fame is mine! but where art thou?
In life’s first hours, despised and lone,
I wander’d through the busy crowd,
But now that life’s best hopes are gone,
They greet with smiles and murmurs loud.
Oh! for thy voice—that happy voice—