European Elegies/Autumn (1)/The dead mistress
20.THE DEAD MISTRESS
Alas, my love is dead,And dead my dearest hope!My happiness is fled!Forlorn and faint I grope!
Farewell to youthful dreams—For all their hopes and joysOne bitter hour blasphemes,One fatal day destroys!
The sweet familiar tonesOf oft remembered wordsMix with my own wild groans,Pierce my weak heart like swords.
The music of the rillWe kissed to in the groveHaunts my sad spirit stillWith bygone hours of love.
My heart is like a plotOf flowers choked with tares,All happiness forgot,O'ergrown with dank grey cares.
Like a doomed ship that steersUpon a sudden reef,My torn heart fills with tearsAnd founders in its grief.
From a Breton folk-song.