Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

Strephon kissed me in the spring,
      Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
      And never kissed at all.

Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
      Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
      Haunts me night and day.

Sorrow, quit me for a while!
    Wintry days are over;
Hope again, with April smile,
    Violets sows and clover.

Pleasure follows in her path,
    Love itself flies after,
And the brook a music hath
    Sweet as childhood’s laughter.

Not a bird upon the bough
    Can repress its rapture,
Not a bud that blossoms now
    But doth beauty capture.

Sorrow, thou art Winter’s mate,
    Spring cannot regret thee;
Yet, ah, yet—my friend of late—
    I shall not forget thee!

Farewell, sweetheart, and again farewell;

To day we part, and who can tell

     If we shall e’er again

Meet, and with clasped hands

Renew our vows of love, and forget

     The sad, dull pain.

Dear heart, ’tis bitter thus to lose thee

And think mayhap, you will forget me;

     And yet, I thrill

As I remember long and happy days

Fraught with sweet love and pleasant memories

     That linger still

You go to loved ones who will smile

And clasp you in their arms, and all the while

     I stay and moan

For you, my love, my heart and strive

To gather up life’s dull, gray thread

     And walk alone.

Aye, with you love the red and gold

Goes from my life, and leaves it cold

     And dull and bare,

Why should I strive to live and learn

And smile and jest, and daily try

     You from my heart to tare?

Nay, sweetheart, rather would I lie

Me down, and sleep for aye; or fly

      To regions far

Where cruel Fate is not and lovers live

Nor feel the grim, cold hand of Destiny

      Their way to bar.

I murmur not, dear love, I only say

Again farewell. God bless the day

      On which we met,

And bless you too, my love, and be with you

In sorrow or in happiness, nor let you

      E’er me forget.

 

                   Why I no longer love thee?
          Ask why summer has fled,
Thy autumn is dead with its garnet glow,
          Why the sea is gray, and the sky is gray;
          Why bitter gales o’er the salt flats blow,
Where the sea-fowl sport in ghoulish play
And the pods of the beach-pea stand withered
On the long-curved rifts of dream-torn sand;
          Why the shore is scarred by time’s rough hand,
                 And ships that heel on wintry seas
                       Are wrecked on the ashen strand!

Weep not,
You who love her.

Place your flowers
Above her
And go your way
Only I shall stay.

After you have gone
With grief in your hearts,
I will remove the flowers
You laid above her.
Yes, I who love her.

Do not weep,
Friends and lovers.

(Oh, the scent of flowers in the air!
Oh, the beauty of her body there!)

Gently now lay your flowers down.
When the last mourner has gone
And I have torn
Each flower;
When the last mourner has gone
And I have tossed
Broken stems and flower heads
To the winds . . . ah! . . .
I will gather withered leaves . . .
I will scatter withered leaves there.

Friends and lovers,
Do not weep.

Gently lay your flowers down . . .
Gently, now, lay your flowers down.