DOLORES.

The moon of my soul is dark, Dolores, Dead and dark in my breast it lies, For I miss the heaven of thy smile, Dolores, And the light of thy brown bright eyes.

The rose of my heart is gone, Dolores, Bud or blossom in vain I seek; For I miss the breath of thy lip, Dolores, And the blush of thy pearl-pale cheek.

The pulse of my heart is still, Dolores, Still and chill is its glowing tide; For I miss the beating of thine, Dolores, In the vacant space by my side.

But the moon shall revisit my soul, Dolores, And the rose shall refresh my heart, When I meet thee again in heaven, Dolores, Never again to part.