Songs of Religion and Life :: :: University of Virginia Library

222

A Dirge.

[_]

Air—Vom hoh'n Olymp.

I

And is she gone; lost, lost to us for ever,
Gone back to mystery and to God,
And shall we look upon her beauty never,
Laid 'neath the cold unfeeling sod?
Pour the sharp sorrow, 'tis human to mourn,
Never, O never, the Dead may return!

II

O she was fair, to nice completeness rounded,
Soft as a flower, bright as a star,

223

Of every diverse human good compounded,
To make choice music without jar!
Pour, etc.

III

Now she is gone; Earth quits her grace for ever,
And native Heaven reclaims his child,
Bright mirror of the glory of the Giver,
In stainless radiance undefiled.
Pour, etc.

IV

O my lean eyes! she's hid, she's hid for ever,
Dark, dark with mystery and with God;
And all my weeping can recall her never,
Back from the cold unfeeling sod!
Pour the sharp sorrow, 'tis human to mourn,
Never on Earth the lost Dead may return!