Phantasmagoria :: :: University of Virginia Library

Zariola, with the silent stealing
Moonlight, o'er the shadows of the sea,
Comes a sound mysteriously revealing
Peace from thy pure spirit unto me.
I am lonely, I am full of sorrow,
Thou art safe asleep, my Zariola,
Far off, only we shall meet to-morrow,
Zariola.

Zariola, I am sick of weeping,
Living, striving, hoping against hope;
Last night in a dream above me sleeping
I saw heaven on heaven of angels ope,
Now I miss thee, now in vain commotion
I am storm-tossed: soon, sweet Zariola,
I shall kiss thee by the jasper ocean,
Zariola.

Zariola, dear one, I am broken,
Pride and pain to-night are gone to rest.
I have kept to heart thy last love-token,
Laid up thy last blessing in my breast.
Thou art calling me from life's dull riot.
I am ready, quite, sweet Zariola,
Night is falling. Soon I shall be quiet,
Zariola.

Zariola, by the moaning billow
To thy grave my thoughts have roamed away,
To thy grave, and on my weary pillow
As I turn, soft to myself I say,
She waits for me. Though the grave be numbing,
She cannot forget me, Zariola.
It grows o'er me darker. I am coming,
Zariola.

June 23rd, 1886.