Tuscan Cypress
iii.
I love you more than any words can say.
And yet you do not feel I love you so;
And slowly I am dying day by day,—
You look at me, and yet you do not know.
You look at me, and yet you do not fear:
You do not see the mourners with the bier.
You answer when I speak and wish me well.
And still you do not hear the passing-bell.
iv.
O Love, O Love, come over the sea, come here,
Come back and kiss me once when I am dead!
Come back and lay a rose upon my bier.
Come, light the tapers at my feet and head.
Come back and kiss me once upon the eyes.
So I, being dead, shall dream of Paradise;
Come, kneel beside me once and say a prayer,
So shall my soul be happy anywhere.
v.
I sowed the field of Love with many seeds,
With many sails I sailed before the blast.
And all my crop is only bitter weeds;
My sails are torn, the winds have split the mast.
All of the winds have torn my sails and shattered.
All of the winds have blown my seed and scattered,
All of the storms have burst on my endeavour,—
So let me sleep at last and sleep for ever.
vi.
I am so pale to-night, so mere a ghost.
Ah, what, to-morrow, shall my spirit be?
No living angel of the heavenly host,
No happy soul, blithe in eternity.
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