Poems (Hoffman)/The Maiden's Lament to Her False Lover
THE MAIDEN'S LAMENT TO HER FALSE LOVER
I have flown from you like a wounded birdWith a crimson stain on its innocent breastTo a land all newTo a sky more blueA Summer of sunshine and flowers and dew,And once again shall my song be heardWith its added undertone of painAnd my innocent breast with its crimson stainShall fill and gurgle with song again.I shall not die of your cruel dartI shall live, I shall live to be happy yetThough your arrow pierced near my glad young heartI shall live and sometime I shall forget;God rules and reigns and is over allAnd with my Father I cannot fall,The world is too beautiful, God too just,I shall shake from my spirit the lower dust.Nearer, nearer Heaven in this upper climeI shall soar and sing o'er the wrecks of Time,And you in the groveling dust of thingsWhere an angel would shudder to trail her wings,You, starving your soul for its natal foodAnd chaining your soul from its highest goodMay hear a voice far above your aim,You may look and wonder and name my nameWhen you hear the echo of some high strainThat is born of triumph o'er sin and pain,Purer, clearer, more high, more calmAn earthly dirge born an angel psalmYou may look and listen and see me again,The little bird with its happy heartThat you pierced one day with your cruel dart,Singing a song that is born of painOn its innocent breast no crimson stain.