HIDE not that book away, nor fear
I shall betray the fallen tear.
Believe me, at a single look
I know the cover of that book.
Nothing with such assiduous care
Is studied in the Book of Prayer;
And never did I see arise
Blushes from David’s melodies.
I sadly fear that wicked “Corsair,”
Fiery as flint and rough as horse-hair,
More tears from those dim eyes hath won
Than David shed on Absalom.