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MY FAVOURITE SONG.
Play it again, dearest, play it again,
That beautiful, delicate, favourite strain,
Throbbing with heart-beats and pulsing with
love,
Sweet as the nightingale, tender as dove;
Now lang’rous with longing, now whisp’ring
soft fears.
Now rapturous with passion, now melting
in tears.
Play it again for me, softly and low—
Play as you played in the sweet long ago.
Not only tho ivory keys do you press,
But keys in my heart that you never would
guess
Would answer again to the touch of your
hand,
Like the quivering reeds you so fully
command.
Play it again in its sadness and sweetness,
Play it once more in its grand incomplete
ness.
Its tones may be true and its cadence
unbroken,
But it leaves us a longing that cannot be
spoken;
