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Yorick
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My soul is dark
My soul is dark oh quickly string The harp I yet brook to hear And let thy gentle fingers fling It's melting murmurs o'er mine ear If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again If in these eyes there lurk a tear Twill flow and cease to burn my brain
But bid the strain be wild and deep Nor let thy notes of joy be first I tell thee minstrel, I must weep Or else this heavy heart will burst For it hath been by sorrow nursed And ached in sleepless silence long And now tis doomed to know the worst And break at once or yield to song
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