Penny Dreadfuls, 1812 · page 190 of 258
Psyche, and other poems — page 190: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is page 172 from a Victorian penny dreadful containing a poem titled "Addressed to My Harp." The page presents running verse in which the speaker addresses their harp as a beloved companion, lamenting that it can no longer provide comfort during times of anxiety and grief. The poem recalls how the harp's music once soothed emotional pain and brought back cherished memories of happy moments shared with friends. The text is formatted as formal poetry with regular stanzas.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
* 172 ADDRESSED TO MY HARP. Ou, my loved Harp! companion dear ! Sweet soother of my secret grief, No more thy sounds my soul must cheer, No more afford a soft relief. When anxious cares my heart oppressed, When doubts distracting tore my soul, The pains which heaved my swelling breast Thy gentle sway could oft control. Each well remembered, practised strain, The cheerful dance, the tender song, Recalled with pensive, pleasing pain Some image loved and cherished long. Where joy sat smiling o’er my fate, And marked each bright and happy day, When partial friends around me sat, And taught my lips the simple lay; » COMIC IOOSaorial