English poem
(From Lenau.)
by Amy Levy (1861–1889)
So late, and yet a nightingale? Long since have dropp’d the blossoms pale, The summer fields are ripening, And yet a sound of spring?
O tell me, didst thou come to hear, Sweet Spring, that I should die this year; And call’st across from the far shore To me one greeting more?
To Death.