 | Fand and Other Poems |  |
She ceased; he must have gone,
If grief the chords of my faint spirit had struck not
And waked one feeble wail. “Woe, woe!” I cried:
“How weak and pale am I!
Ah! by what beauty shall I win thee back,
Made weaker by my sorrows and my fears?
My words dissolve in sighs,
That should persuade thine ears;
I have only tears
To make mine eyes more beautiful.”
If grief the chords of my faint spirit had struck not
And waked one feeble wail. “Woe, woe!” I cried:
“How weak and pale am I!
Ah! by what beauty shall I win thee back,
Made weaker by my sorrows and my fears?
My words dissolve in sighs,
That should persuade thine ears;
I have only tears
To make mine eyes more beautiful.”
| Fand and Other Poems | |