206
remorse.
But no such sorrow do I bear
Within this wounded breast;
Heavy with grief, dim with despair,
My spirit finds no rest.
Within this wounded breast;
Heavy with grief, dim with despair,
My spirit finds no rest.
A father's curse is on my soul—
A mother's broken heart—
A sister's cheek is flushed with shame,
And tears of anguish start.
Then tell me not of happiness,
Until this weary head
Shall lay its sorrow and its shame
Beside the mouldering dead!
A mother's broken heart—
A sister's cheek is flushed with shame,
And tears of anguish start.
Then tell me not of happiness,
Until this weary head
Shall lay its sorrow and its shame
Beside the mouldering dead!
