 | Poems and Translations |  |
55
IN HER GRAVE.
Beauty in her grave is lying:
Love's last words are said,
Silent Sorrow still replying—
Still with tears unshed,
For the Lovely and the Lost.
O sad heart! thou dost
Too well know
Nor Love nor Woe
Hath gain of their vain crying.
Love's last words are said,
Silent Sorrow still replying—
Still with tears unshed,
For the Lovely and the Lost.
O sad heart! thou dost
Too well know
Nor Love nor Woe
Hath gain of their vain crying.
Beauty in her grave is sleeping,
Strown with fragrant bloom.
O, in vain, vain this upheaping
Dead sweets on a tomb!
Love and Sorrow! come away.
O sad Death! thy prey
Can not know
Or love or woe.
Let us go, yet weeping!
Strown with fragrant bloom.
O, in vain, vain this upheaping
Dead sweets on a tomb!
Love and Sorrow! come away.
O sad Death! thy prey
Can not know
Or love or woe.
Let us go, yet weeping!
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