WHEN
THE
SOFT
TEAR
STEALS
SILENTLY
.
WHEN
the
soft
tear
steals
silently
down
from
the
eye
,
Take
no
note
of
its
course
,
nor
detect
the
slow
sigh
;
From
some
spring
of
shy
sorrow
its
origin
flows
,
Some
tender
remembrance
that
weeps
as
it
goes
.
Ah
!
it
is
not
to
say
what
will
bring
to
the
mind
The
sweet
joys
departed
,
the
friends
left
behind
;
A
tune
,
or
a
song
,
or
the
time
of
the
year
,
Strikes
the
key
of
reflection
,
and
moans
in
the
ear
.
Thro'
the
gay
scenes
of
youth
the
remembrancer
strays
,
Till
mem'ry
steps
back
on
old
pleasures
to
gaze
;
Fleeting
shadows
they
seem
that
glide
calmly
away
,
The
remains
of
past
hours
,
and
the
ghosts
of
a
day
.
When
we
set
out
in
life
every
thing
has
its
charms
,
Enkindles
the
fancy
,
and
all
the
heart
warms
;
'Tis
this
makes
us
look
on
the
joys
that
are
past
With
an
eye
that
turns
coolly
to
glance
on
the
last
.
Let
the
tear
then
flow
on
,
nor
mark
the
full
eye
,
'Tis
the
soul's
secret
off'ring
no
mortal
should
spy
;
Few
hearts
are
prepar'd
for
a
rite
so
divine
,
When
the
feelings
alone
sacrifice
at
the
shrine
.