Many tears cannot quench, nor my sighs extinguish the…

Many tears cannot quench, nor my sighs extinguish the flames of love’s fire, Which lifteth my heart like a wave, and smites it and breaks its desire.

I rise like one in a dream; unbidden my feet know the way To that garden where love stood in blossom with the red and white hawthorn of May.

The song of the throstle is hushed, and the fountain is dry to its core, The moon cometh up as of old; she seeks, but she finds him no more.

The pale-faced, pitiful moon shines down on the grass where I weep, My face to the earth, and my breast in an anguish ne’er soothed into sleep.

The moon returns, and the spring, birds warble, trees burst into leaf, But love once gone, goes for ever, and all that endures is the grief.