Love is dead! He died in anguish,
Of a sharp and cruel blow,
And, howe'er your heart may languish,
Love shall warm it never, no!
No eye saw the stroke 't was given,
No ear heard the mortal groan,
When the tender heart was riven,
Bleeding, desolate, alone.
No lip read the funeral service,
No bell tolled the final sigh;
Mass or anthem ne'er above us,
God and Grief alone watch'd by.
And you might have had him living,
Warm and close, to clasp and hold.
Life's sole gift, that's worth the giving,
By your words, lies dead and cold!
|