.


 O that 'twere possible
.


 After long grief and pain
.


 To find the arms of my true love
.


 Round me once again!2.


 When I was wont to meet her
.


 In the silent woody places
.


 By the home that gave me birth,
.


 We stood tranced in long embraces
.


 Mixt with kisses sweeter sweeter
.


 Than anything on earth.2.


 A shadow flits before me,
.


 Not thou, but like to thee:
.


 Ah Christ, that it were possible
.


 For one short hour to see
.


 The souls we loved, that they might tell us
.


 What and where they be.2.


 It leads me forth at evening,
.


 It lightly winds and steals
.


 In a cold white robe before me,
.


 When all my spirit reels
.


 At the shouts, the leagues of lights,
.


 And the roaring of the wheels.2.


 Half the night I waste in sighs,
.


 Half in dreams I sorrow after
.


 The delight of early skies;
.


 In a wakeful doze I sorrow
.


 For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
.


 For the meeting of the morrow,
.


 The delight of happy laughter,
.


 The delight of low replies.2.


 'Tis a morning pure and sweet,
.


 And a dewy splendour falls
.


 On the little flower that clings
.


 To the turrets and the walls;
.


 'Tis a morning pure and sweet,
.


 And the light and shadow fleet;
.


 She is walking in the meadow,
.


 And the woodland echo rings;
.


 In a moment we shall meet;
.


 She is singing in the meadow,
.


 And the rivulet at her feet
.


 Ripples on in light and shadow
.


 To the ballad that she sings.2.


 So I hear her sing as of old,
.


 My bird with the shining head,
.


 My own dove with the tender eye?
.


 But there rings on a sudden a passionate cry,
.


 There is some one dying or dead,
.


 And a sullen thunder is roll'd;
.


 For a tumult shakes the city,
.


 And I wake, my dream is fled;
.


 In the shuddering dawn, behold,
.


 Without knowledge, without pity,
.


 By the curtains of my bed
.


 That abiding phantom cold.2.


 Get thee hence, nor come again,
.


 Mix not memory with doubt,
.


 Pass, thou deathlike type of pain,
.


 Pass and cease to move about!
.


 'Tis the blot upon the brain
.


 That will show itself without.2.


 Then I rise, the eave-drops fall,
.


 And the yellow vapours choke
.


 The great city sounding wide;
.


 The day comes, a dull red ball
.


 Wrapt in drifts of lurid smoke
.


 On the misty river-tide.2.


 Thro'the hubbub of the market
.


 I steal, a wasted frame;
.


 It crosses here, it crosses there,
.


 Thro'all that crowd confused and loud,
.


 The shadow still the same;
.


 And on my heavy eyelids
.


 My anguish hangs like shame.2.


 Alas for her that met me,
.


 That heard me softly call,
.


 Came glimmering thro'the laurels
.


 At the quiet evenfall,
.


 In the garden by the turrets
.


 Of the old manorial hall.2.


 Would the happy spirit descend
.


 From the realms of light and song,
.


 In the chamber or the street,
.


 As she looks among the blest,
.


 Should I fear to greet my friend
.


 Or to say "Forgive the wrong,"
.


 Or to ask her, "Take me, sweet,
.


 To the regions of thy rest"?2.


 But the broad light glares and beats,
.


 And the shadow flits and fleets
.


 And will not let me be;
.


 And I loathe the squares and streets,
.


 And the faces that one meets,
.


 Hearts with no love for me:
.


 Always I long to creep
.


 Into some still cavern deep,
.


 There to weep, and weep, and weep
.


 My whole soul out to thee....