This page has been validated.
Oh! might the fire burn up once more!
But oh! that hope how vain!
The corse long dead to life restore,
Bid roses bloom again!
When once the summer-time is o'er
Winter will have his reign,
But my lost summer never more
Shall I, like earth, regain.
But oh! that hope how vain!
The corse long dead to life restore,
Bid roses bloom again!
When once the summer-time is o'er
Winter will have his reign,
But my lost summer never more
Shall I, like earth, regain.
The poet lives on love and hope,
And they his muse inspire;
When they have fled his soul is dead,
And silent is his lyre;
One burst of anguish and despair
May from his spirit come,
Then he his grievous cross must bear,
Heart-broken, soulless, dumb!
And they his muse inspire;
When they have fled his soul is dead,
And silent is his lyre;
One burst of anguish and despair
May from his spirit come,
Then he his grievous cross must bear,
Heart-broken, soulless, dumb!
1902
33
