Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
Sarah Brightman
There's none to soothe my soul to rest
There's none my load of grief to share
Or wake to joy this lonely breast
Or light the gloom of dark despair
The voice of joy no more can cheer
The look of love no more can warm
Since mute for aye's that voice so dear
And closed that eye alone could charm