Thou Hast Woven The Spell That Hath Bound Me, Through All The Sad Changes Of Years; And The Smiles That I Wore When I Found Thee, Have Faded And Melted In Tears! Like The Poor, Wounded Fawn From The Mountain, That Seeks Out The Clear Silver Tide, I Have Lingered In Vain At The Fountain Of Hope--With A Shaft In My Side! Thou Hast Taught Me That Love'S Rosy Fetters A Pang From The Thorns May Impart; That The Coinage Of Vows And Of Letters Comes Not From The Mint Of The Heart. Like The Lone Bird That Flutters Her Pinion, And Warbles In Bondage Her Strain, I Have Struggled To Fly Thy Domain, But Find That The Struggle Is Vain!