If Heaven, Love and Fortune have been pleased-- The fault was not mine own-- To set me thus in such a parlous state, Vainly unto the air I make my moan, Vainly on high was raised Unto the moon the thought that seemed so great. Oh cruel, cruel, fate! By what mysterious and unwonted ways Have my sweet joyous days Been checked at such a pass in their career That I am dying and e'en life do fear! Enraged against myself I burn and glow To see that I can bear Such pains, and yet my heart breaks not; the wind Receiveth not my soul, though vital air Amidst my bitter woe At last withdraws, and leaveth naught behind. And there anew I find That hope doth lend its aid to give me strength, And, though but feigned, doth strengthen life at length, 'Tis not Heaven's pity, for it doth ordain That to long life be given longer pain. The hapless bosom of a lovèd friend In turn made tender mine, At once I undertook the dread emprize. Oh sweet and bitter plight none can divine! Oh deed that ne'er shall end! Oh strategy that madness did devise! To win for him the prize How bounteous and how kind Love did appear, To me how full of fear And loyalty, and yet how covetous! To more than this a friend constraineth us. An unjust guerdon for a wish as just At every step we see By a distrustful fortune's hand bestowed, And, traitorous Love, by thine; we know of thee That 'tis thy joy and trust That lovers e'en in life should bear death's load. The living flame that glowed-- Oh may it kindle in thy pinions light And may, in thy despite, To ashes sink each good and evil dart, Or turn, when thou dost loose it, 'gainst thine heart. How comes it then, by what deceit or wile, By what strange wanderings, Didst thou possession take of me by storm? How 'midst my longings after higher things Within the heart, from guile Yet free, didst thou my healthy will transform, False traitor to my harm? Who is so wise as patiently to see How that I entered, free And safe, to sing thy glories and thy pains, And now upon my neck do feel thy chains?