They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I know thee,
Who knew thee too well!
Long, long shail I rue thee
Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met,
In silence I grieve,
That my heart would forget,
Thy spirit deceive!
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears!
Lo! when the showers descending
Weigh the lily's crest,
How its frail cup, bending,
Seems with woe oppress'd!
Drops on drops assail her,
Whelm each lucid leaf;
The pale flower grows yet paler,
Lost in hopeless grief.
Zephyr, lightly sweeping
O'er the blooming plain,
Spies that lily weeping,
Newly washed with rain!
Fondly bends he o'er it,
Blowing drops away,
With a kiss restores it,
Lady of the May!