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Ah! who heals his sorrow
To whom even balsam is poison?
Who misantrophy drank
From the very o'er flowings of love?
First despised & now a despiser
In secret he consuming
The virtue that dwells in his heart
With unsatisfied selfishness now.
Father of love! on thy Psaltery
Is there a note of sweet music
Meet for his ear?
O then awaken his heart!
Open his unclouded glance
On thousands of streamlets that flow
Around the thirsty one
In the desert.
Identifier: | JB/110/206/001 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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206 |
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001 |
[[titles::[…?] [...?]]] |
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collectanea |
6 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
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36196 |
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