A sudden blindness, a creeping fear, Such is death. An awful vastness, an unknown sphere, Choking breath, And then ... death.
A cloud is over the sun, The wind is laden with rain, A frost has smitten the flowers; The time of Winter is pain.
But kiss me and I shall live, The sun shall nourish the plain, The dawn be happy with birds And love bring Summer again.
If like the bird who sits and swings Upon a branch, and blithely sings, I could but spread two faithful wings,
And by their aid could smoothly skim The highest peaks, the summits dim, Until I reached the sunlight's rim,
Would I not then in pity gaze Upon the turmoil and the maze Of earth, and all its foolish ways?
Chance made me look at you, Chance was no friend! Sight made me worship you, Time without end.
Had I been only blind What had I cared, And thus, afflicted sore How much been spared!
With silent feet all wet with dew, Comes evening full of soft repose, To kiss the valley deep and blue, With wistful lips, and eyes that close.
Her breath is soft, and full of peace, Her arms outstretchéd to caress Fling benedictions without cease, She seems a spirit borne to bless.
And as the evening to the earth, Came love to me, a boon most rare; Hushed every sorrow at its birth, And turned complaining into prayer.
A butterfly hovered over a flower, In a bower, With the joy of life at his lips for an hour. With the rose's petals against his wings, And the rose's perfume that steals and clings Touching every breath with a wondrous power.
Then the Night came on, and the wind blew cold O'er the wold. The butterfly shivered, grown tired and old; The rose closed her passionate eyes and slept, While death to her lover in silence crept; He died of a joy untold.
How little there is that e'er goes right In this old world of ours. Anticipation? a vague delight; Reality? well, the rose with a blight, The thorn that comes with the flowers.
What can I sing to thee Oh! thrice-beloved sea? What words can paint thy grace, The beauty of thy face, Enrapt with ecstasy?
Fling up thy foamy arms, Laden with cooling balms, And touch me where I stand Here on the yearning land, With soft embrace that calms.
I gaze into thine eyes, Where mystic shadow lies, And lovelights glow and gleam Within their emerald beam, And passion lives and dies—