 | Ballads and Lyrical poems |  |
55
LOVE AWEARY OF THE WORLD.
I
Oh! my love is very lovely,In her mind all beauties dwell;
She is robed in living splendour,
Grace and modesty attend her,
And I love her more than well.
But I'm weary, weary, weary,
To despair my soul is hurl'd;
I am weary, weary, weary,
I am weary of the world!
II
She is kind to all about her,For her heart is pity's throne;
She has smiles for all men's gladness,
She has tears for every sadness,
She is hard to me alone.
And I'm weary, weary; weary,
From a love-lit summit hurl'd;
I am weary, weary, weary,
I am weary of the world!
III
When my words are words of wisdom,All her spirit I can move;
At my wit her eyes will glisten,
But she flies, and will not listen,
If I dare to speak of love.
56
By a storm of passions whirl'd;
I am weary, weary, weary,
I am weary of the world!
IV
True, that there are others fairer—Fairer?—No, that cannot be—
Yet some maids of equal beauty,
High in soul and firm in duty,
May have kinder hearts than she.
Why, my heart, so weary, weary,
To and fro by passion whirl'd?—
Why so weary, weary, weary,
Why so weary of the world?
V
Were my love but passing fancy,To another I might turn;
But I'm doom'd to love unduly
One who will not answer truly,
And who freezes when I burn;
And I'm weary, weary, weary,
To despair my soul is hurl'd;
I am weary, weary, weary,
I am weary of the world!
| Ballads and Lyrical poems | |