Read "My Song" by Kate Simpson Hayes online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
I could not sing unless my song / Had in its symphony one broken string; / I could not say the thoughts that in me rise / Unless my heart had been a broken thing. / Why is it that the voice of Song so yields / Mute music till the heart hath bled? / Why should we find most fair and far-off fields / By thorny by-paths led?
But if this little weakling song of mine / Might carry cheer to one, lone, grieving soul, / Most gladly would I offer Hope's bright wine / And, smiling, drink the lees left in the bowl: / For I have in the darkness found some light, -- / Some sunshine seen in shadowed evening hours, / And I have found throughout the lonely night / Some perfumed breathings from wild garden bowers.
And I were ingrate not to send it on, / Such echo of what music in me lies, / For it may bring to some o'er darkened dawn / The brightening glow that comes with morning skies. / So, go you, little broken Song, / And carry to some heart in bitter pain / Only my lute's light laughter. Make thou strong / The weak of heart and bid them smile again.