Читать книгу Belford's Magazine, Vol. II, No. 3, February 1889 - Various - Страница 4

With sad face turned aside, lest sudden comers see her weep,

She sits, her fingers softly trying, on the ivory keys,

To find a half-forgotten way – that memories

May soothe her yearning spirit into dreamful sleep.

And now the old tune rises, – trembles, – slowly stealing round

That empty room, where often in the other years

It sang its love and tenderness, and gathered tears

To eyes that weep no more, – ah, sweetest, hallowed sound!