English poem
Old Love
by Adelaide Crapsey (1878–1914)
More dim than waning moon Thy face, more faint Than is the falling wind Thy voice, yet do Thine eyes most strangely glow, Thou ghost . . . thou ghost.
AH ME. . . . ALAS. . . .
(He)
Ah me, my love's heart, Like some frail flower, apart, High, on the cliff's edge growing, Touched by unhindered sun to sweeter showing, Swung by each faint wind's faintest blowing, But so, on the cliff's edge growing, From man's reach aloof, apart: Ah me, my love's heart!
(She)
Alack, alas, my lover, As one who would discover At world's end his path, Nor knows at all what faëry way he hath Who turneth dreaming into faith And followeth that near path His own heart dareth to discover: Alack, alas, my lover!