 | Poems |  |
261
OH! LOVE IS DEAD.
What is thy hap, lamenting soul?
That through the land, where all may hear,
With visage drawn by pain and dole,
Thou weepest loud with grief and fear.
That through the land, where all may hear,
With visage drawn by pain and dole,
Thou weepest loud with grief and fear.
“Oh! I have slain the sweetest wight
That e'er bore mortal company!
Therefore, my day is turned to night
And over all the earth I flee.”
That e'er bore mortal company!
Therefore, my day is turned to night
And over all the earth I flee.”
Why, then, the deed is o'er and done,
Thy dead at rest in kindly clay;
Canst thou not rest, thou weary one,
And for his shriven spirit pray?
Thy dead at rest in kindly clay;
Canst thou not rest, thou weary one,
And for his shriven spirit pray?
“Alas! alas! No earth-born man
Fell to my dagger's sudden thrust;
No, not since hoary time began
Hath such a victim bit the dust.
Fell to my dagger's sudden thrust;
No, not since hoary time began
Hath such a victim bit the dust.
“Nor yet in blest and sacred ground,
Lies the cold corse bereft of life;
Nor at my touch did any wound
Bleed to betray who sought the strife.
Lies the cold corse bereft of life;
Nor at my touch did any wound
Bleed to betray who sought the strife.
262
“Oh! Love is dead! Sweet Love is dead!
I slew him with my reckless hand;
My life of life my wrath has sped;
And here a hopeless wretch I stand.”
I slew him with my reckless hand;
My life of life my wrath has sped;
And here a hopeless wretch I stand.”
Poor soul, take heart; remember them
Who did to death the Lord of Love;
Who bound His thorny diadem,
And mocked Him where with death he strove;
Who did to death the Lord of Love;
Who bound His thorny diadem,
And mocked Him where with death he strove;
Yet in the Cross's agony,
His lips, all pale with deathly dew,
Cried to the Father's majesty:
“Forgive! they know not what they do.”
His lips, all pale with deathly dew,
Cried to the Father's majesty:
“Forgive! they know not what they do.”
“But well I knew what well I wrought.
I pined for gold with sinful greed;
For glittering gold I toiled and fought,
And killed my life's diviner need.
I pined for gold with sinful greed;
For glittering gold I toiled and fought,
And killed my life's diviner need.
“So Love is dead; sweet Love is dead!
Cold age is here and I alone.
My gains are dust and bitter bread;
From earth and heaven my hope is flown.
Cold age is here and I alone.
My gains are dust and bitter bread;
From earth and heaven my hope is flown.
“Nor shall those dead lips cry, “Forgive”;
Those silent eyes with pity shine;
But my lost soul shall writhe and live,
And thirst till death for drink divine.”
Those silent eyes with pity shine;
But my lost soul shall writhe and live,
And thirst till death for drink divine.”
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