The Spirit of My Song

Melody - Stephen Foster, 1850; Seq. by Benjamin R. Tubb

Metta Victoria Fuller, 1850

Tell me, have you ever met her
Met the spirit of my song?
Have her wave-like footsteps glided
Through the city's worldly throng?
You will know her by a wreath,
Woven all of starry light,
That is lying mid her hair
Braided hair as dark as night.
Chorus:
Tell me, have you ever met her
Met the spirit of my song?
Have her wave-like footsteps glided
Through the city's worldly throng?

A short band of radiant summers
It upon her forehead laid,
Twining half in golden sunlight,
Sleeping half in dreamy shade:
Five white fingers clasp a lyre,
Five its silv'ry strings awake,
And bewildering to the soul
Is the music that they make.
Chorus:

3. Though her glances sleep like shadows
'Neath each falling, silken lash,
Yet, at aught that wakes resentment,
They magnificently flash.
Though you loved such dewy dream-light,
And such glance of sweet surprise,
You could never bear the scorn
Of those proud and brilliant eyes.
Chorus:

4. There's a sweet and winning cunning
In her bright lip's crimson hue,
And a flitting tint of roses
From her soft cheek gleaming through:
Do you think that you have met her?
She is young and pure and fair,
And she wears a wreath of starlight,
In her braided ebon hair.
Chorus:

5. Often at her feet I'm sitting,
With my head upon her knee,
While she tells me dreams of beauty
In low words of melody:
And, when my unskilful fingers
Strive her silvery lyre to wake,
She will smooth my tresses, smiling
At the discord which I make.
Chorus:

6. But of late days I have missed her
The bright being of my love
And perchance she's stolen pinions
And has floated up above.
Tell me, have you ever met her
Met the spirit of my song?
Have her wave-like footsteps glided
Through the city's worldly throng?
Chorus:

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