Song.
Awake to the sound of my sighing,1
Breeze, gentle breeze of the night !2
Like an echo awake thou, replying3
To my grief’s bitter wailing aright.4
Let me think it is Nature thus mourning,5
Deep Nature and sorrowful Night ;6
For my soul and my heart I am scorning,7
Thus bowed beneath Sorrow’s cold blight.8
Wake then to the sound of my sighing—9
Breeze ! quiet breeze of the night !10
In the tones of thy sinking and dying,11
Perchance thou may’st chime it aright.12
And oh ! not alone with my sighing,13
Be burthened, sweet breeze of the night ;14
This soul—to which none are replying,15
Bear that too with thee on thy flight !16