Description: "Words and music by Dr. Wetmore, on the death of his wife," with four stanzas.
Original text and translations
1. Let music roll in mournful strains,
While death his prisoner binds in chains;
Each harper dressed in grief's attire,
While sorrow tunes her mournful lyre!
Awake, awake, each silent string,
With melting notes new sorrows bring,
Till on the dirge my spirit flies
To the dark shade where Sylvia lies!
2. Huge troubles rise on every side,
Like the fierce ocean's rapid tide;
The raging billows ceaseless roar,
Proclaim, my Sylvia is no more!
Her spirit's winged from earth away,
To realms of woe or endless day,
To join the joyful throng above,
In praising Christ's' eternal love.
3. O cruel tyrant! monster death!
To stop so soon my Sylvia's breath
To deck in mourning garbs of woe,
The face of nature where I go.
What mighty sorrows veil the land,
The lofty hills in mourning stand.
The crystal streams in sorrow glide
And roll to meet the swelling tide!
4. Ye silent groves and meadows wail.
While anguish moves in every gale ;
On swifter wings let nature fly,
To bear inv troubled soul on high.
There let me find my Sylvia dear,
Where death and sorrow reign no more.
Our souls once more in friendship blend,
Where rolling ages never end.