Werner

Nay, maiden, let me tell thee of the past, Let me lay bare my heart beneath thy gaze, And thou wilt pity if thou canst not love. I loved in youth with love as fond and deep As ever made the heart of man its slave, But, ere my hopes could ripen to fruition, Death came and made my worshipped one his prize; And though my peace departed when she died, Yet I was proud, and would not bond to sorrow, But with calm brow and eye, and smiling lip, I mingled with the giddy thoughtless world, Seeking from out its varied realms to wring Some recompense for that which I had lost. Wealth, fame, and power, I sought for and obtained, Yet found them only gilded mockeries. The paths of hidden knowledge I essayed, And trod their mazy windings till they led My footsteps—whither I may not disclose,— But all availed me nothing, still my heart Ached with the dreary void lost love had made, Ached ever till that void was filled by thee! Since first fate led me to your kindly door, Three times the moon with full-orbed light hath shone, Thrice thirty times, with song of merry birds And breath of fragrance, Morn has blest the earth And all its dwellers with her radiant presence; Thrice thirty times, with star-bound brow, dim Night Hath kept her tearful watch above the earth; And every time the full-orb'd moon hath shone, And every time the merry Morn hath smiled, And every time dim Night with star-bound brow Above the earth hath kept her tearful watch, My heart has added to its store of love, Its pure, deep, fervent, passionate love for thee! By all my hopes of heaven, my words are true. Dost thou not pity now?