THE BUZZ SAW, - A TRAGEDY.
SUFFERING SOUL. - Sing on ! O saw ! O saw, sing on!
SAW. - Whir-r-r-r-r-e!e!e!e!e! Buzz-z-z-z-z! sing on!
SUF. SOUL. - Sweet saw, thy dulcet song has power to soothe
The inward troubles of a tortured mind;
For memory of a disappointed love
Was never yet with ear-ache dire combined.
Now, once again thy screeching treble raise
High o'er thy busy brethren's duller clang.
SAW. - Wah-ah-ah-ow-ow-ow-hay I z-z-z-z! cher-wang.
SUF. SOUL. - Thanks! A most gracious comforter thou
When sorrow weighs our spirits down like lead;
For none need suffer with a breaking heart
When thou art near to split his aching head.
Sing one more strain, I know 't will be the last
I'll ask of thee, - my dead march to the tomb!
SAW (con spirito) - Whe-e-e-e-e-e-er-r-r-r-whoo! oo! oo! oo! oop.
oop! BOOM!
SUF. SOUL (throws himself on the saw and dies).
Williams Review.
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