O word I love to sing! thou art too tender br For all the passions agitating me; br For all my bitterness thou art too tender, br I cannot pour my red soul into thee. br br O haunting melody! thou art too slender, br Too fragile like a globe of crystal glass; br For all my stormy thoughts thou art too slender, br The burden from my bosom will not pass. br br O tender word! O melody so slender! br O tears of passion saturate with brine, br O words, unwilling words, ye can not render br My hatred for the foe of me and mine.