Poems (Linn)/Hero
HERO.
WHY weep fair Hero, on the Thracian shore?Is he not true? Although his hand is coldIt is in yours. His love will not grow old:You have him now and can you ask for more?Cease then in tears your sorrow to outpour:His last and dying thought was all for you:To your sweet kiss his lips were ever true,And he has come at last, as oft before.Oh! better far, fair Hero, this cold face,These icy lips, these unresponsive eyes;Oh! better far this death in love and youthWhen life is full of purity and grace,Than blasted hopes, and doubts, and living lies,Than life with broken faith and base untruth.