Still the swallows come, still the swallows come,
And the empty chest is filled--
But this longing dumb, but this longing dumb
Shall ne'er be stilled.
Nay, no swallow brings, nay, no swallow brings
Thee again where thou wast before--
Though the swallow sings, though the swallow sings,
Still as of yore.
"When I went away, when I went away,
Full coffers and chests were there;
When I came today, when I came today,
All, all was bare!"
* * * * *
THE SPRING OF LOVE[51] (1821)
Dearest, thy discourses steal
From my bosom's deep, my heart
How can I from thee conceal
My delight, my sorrow's smart?
Dearest, when I hear thy lyre
From its chains my soul is free.
To the holy angel quire
From the earth, O let us flee!
[Illustration: MEMORIES OF YOUTH]
Dearest, how thy music's charms
Waft me dancing through the sky!
Let me round thee clasp my arms,
Lest in glory I should die!
Dearest, sunny wreaths I wear,
Twined around me by thy lay.
For thy garlands, rich and rare,
O how can I thank thee? Say!
Like the angels I would be
Without mortal frame,
Whose sweet converse is like thought,
Sounding with acclaim;
Or like flowers in the dale;
Like the stars that glow,
Whose love-song's a beam, whose words
Like sweet odors flow;
Or like to the breeze of morn,
Waving round its rose,
In love's dallying caress
Melting as it blows.
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