_Despairing Cries._

1.

Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and night, The sad voice of Death--the call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarmed, uncertain, "The Sea I am quickly to sail: come tell me, Come tell me where I am speeding--tell me my destination."

2.

I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you; I approach, hear, behold--the sad mouth, the look out of the eyes, your mute inquiry, "Whither I go from the bed I recline on, come tell me." Old age, alarmed, uncertain--A young woman's voice, appealing to me for comfort; A young man's voice, "Shall I not escape?"