I find my sorrows to be lightened
When I sing of things that grieve my heart;
When the threat of despair is heightened,
It is then my feeble warblings start;
At first, notes take off like birds, frightened
By a storm, as to and fro they dart

But soon my refrains flow like a stream,
Weakening the throbbing pulse of grief;
One by one they fade into a dream,
Bringing to my heart blessed relief;
But how I tire of altering Life's scheme,
Rustling its script like a petty thief

It's not joy that causes me to sing,
(Heaven sighs when my songs reach its spheres)
With each note, another tear takes wing,
Each song freeing pent up woes and fears;
Without song,  profound would be the sting
Of Love's cruel deceit when it appears

And if the strains of a mournful song
Escape from my windows late at night,
My heart's remembering some grievous wrong --
A melody helps the pain take flight;
Never has my heart feigned to be strong,
A frail warrior, it yields to its plight

But my tears alone cannot atone
For the wretched pain life sends each day;
When buds of loneliness are full-blown,
I weave each bloom into a bouquet;
With arms filled with flowers I walk alone,
Composing new songs along the way