GO, LET ME WEEP.

Go, let me weep — there's bliss in tears,

When he who sheds them inly feels

Some lingering stain of early years

Effaced by every drop that steals.

The fruitless showers of worldly woe

Fall dark to earth and never rise;

While tears that from repentance flow,

In bright exhalement reach the skies.

Go, let me weep.

Leave me to sigh o'er hours that flew

More idly than the summer's wind,

And, while they past, a fragrance threw,

But left no trace of sweets behind.—

The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves

Is cold, is faint to those that swell

The heart where pure repentance grieves

O'er hours of pleasure, loved too well.

Leave me to sigh.