Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

Dissolving like the snow when cast on fire.
Alas ! alas ! even when I grasped the pen,
I felt I could not act like other men —
A tremulous feeling shook my very frame,
I could not breathe, T could not write her name.
O sad resolve ! how quickly wouldst thou fly
Upon the pinions of a pensive sigh !
For prudence, when it rules the mind aright,
With hope and doubt— alternate day and night-
Creates a fearful feeling, half insane !
Which dreads the merest semblance of disdain ;
This wondrous sensibility of mind
Can brook no look, no accent that's unkind ;
A 710, instead of yes, — no more ! no more !
The very thought sends poison to the core ;
For this might to the sanguine soul convey
A dreaded fate, a desperate dismay.
An humbled, an abash 'd, and startling pain,
That might no more be curb'd by reason's rein.
Better, O better far ! in each degree,
Unspoken wish. — No man e'er loved like me !
Thus oft I long'd to tell my secret mind
To some dear friend whose sympathies were kind,
That we might meet, as if it were by chance,
Round festive board, or in the mazy dance ;
But, oh ! I durst not speak the tremulous tale.
So often sigh'd on evening's dewy gale, —
So deeply graven on each page of life.
The source of all my happiness and strife ;
Yet when I oped the guest-inclosing door.
And tript in lightness o'er the velvet floor,
I've gazed around with wild and wond'ring stare,
Perhaps to see if such an one were there ;
Ah ! then my anxious spirit would grow still,
And reason reign with more quiescent will.
For what I long'd so much in joy to greet,
My timid spirit could not brook to meet.