 | Songs of a Stranger |  |
113
LA PARTENZA.
FROM METASTASIO.
Alas! the fatal hour is come,—
The hour of fate to me!
How shall I live?—where seek a home?—
So far removed from thee!
My life will pass in ceaseless sighs,
Till its last throb be o'er;
While ah! perhaps the heart I prize
Remembers me no more!
The hour of fate to me!
How shall I live?—where seek a home?—
So far removed from thee!
My life will pass in ceaseless sighs,
Till its last throb be o'er;
While ah! perhaps the heart I prize
Remembers me no more!
Still will my hopes be wandering,
The vanished peace to find
Of those fond hours, whose rapid wing
Has left no trace behind.
In every place—where'er thou art,
My tend'rest thoughts shall soar;
While ah! perhaps thy changeful heart
Remembers me no more!
The vanished peace to find
Of those fond hours, whose rapid wing
Has left no trace behind.
In every place—where'er thou art,
My tend'rest thoughts shall soar;
While ah! perhaps thy changeful heart
Remembers me no more!
114
When each sad morn my weary way
I seek, remote and drear,
And ask each rock and cavern gray
For her who cannot hear,
Still shall I breathe a sigh to thee
From many a distant shore;
While thou, perhaps, content wilt be,
Rememb'ring me no more!
I seek, remote and drear,
And ask each rock and cavern gray
For her who cannot hear,
Still shall I breathe a sigh to thee
From many a distant shore;
While thou, perhaps, content wilt be,
Rememb'ring me no more!
How fondly will my mem'ry rest
On hill, and vale, and grove,
Where every hour of life was blest—
For all were pass'd in love!
But ah! those scenes of happiness
I knew but to deplore;
Whilst thou, perhaps, may'st prize them less,
Rememb'ring me no more!
On hill, and vale, and grove,
Where every hour of life was blest—
For all were pass'd in love!
But ah! those scenes of happiness
I knew but to deplore;
Whilst thou, perhaps, may'st prize them less,
Rememb'ring me no more!
“There,”—shall I dream—“by yonder wave,
Her frowns first caused me pain;
And here, in sign of peace, she gave
Her gentle hand again!—
'Twas here the breeze my earliest sighs
Upon its bosom bore.”—
But thou, perhaps, canst all despise,
Rememb'ring me no more!
Her frowns first caused me pain;
And here, in sign of peace, she gave
Her gentle hand again!—
115
Upon its bosom bore.”—
But thou, perhaps, canst all despise,
Rememb'ring me no more!
Oh! think, the gloomy shades among,
How hopelessly I mourn!
Oh! think how I have loved thee long,
And loved without return!
Think on the hour that bids us part—
My life, my peace, restore!
Let me not fear thy changeful heart
Remembers me no more!
How hopelessly I mourn!
Oh! think how I have loved thee long,
And loved without return!
Think on the hour that bids us part—
My life, my peace, restore!
Let me not fear thy changeful heart
Remembers me no more!
| Songs of a Stranger | |