The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 3 (Away, Away, Ye Notes Of Woe) Lord Byron

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Away, Away, Ye Notes Of Woe![ac][31]

1.
Away, away, ye notes of Woe!
Be silent, thou once soothing Strain,
Or I must flee from hence—for, oh!
I dare not trust those sounds again.[ad]
To me they speak of brighter days—
But lull the chords, for now, alas![ae]
I must not think, I may not gaze,[af]
On what I am—on what I was.

2.
The voice that made those sounds more sweet[ag]
Is hushed, and all their charms are fled;
And now their softest notes repeat
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee,
Belovéd dust! since dust thou art;
And all that once was Harmony
Is worse than discord to my heart!

3.
'Tis silent all!—but on my ear[ah]
The well remembered Echoes thrill;
I hear a voice I would not hear,
A voice that now might well be still:
Yet oft my doubting Soul 'twill shake;
Ev'n Slumber owns its gentle tone,
Till Consciousness will vainly wake
To listen, though the dream be flown.