Appear, O shade of my beloved As thou before our parting wert: Pale, cold, like a wintry day Disfigured by thy struggle of death, Come like unto a distant star, Or like a fearful apparition, 'T is all the same: Come hither, come hither And I call thee, not in order To reproach him whose wickedness My friend hath slain. Nor to fathom the grave's mysteries, Nor because at times I'm worn With gnawing doubt ... but I sadly Wish to say that still I love thee, That wholly thine I am: hither come, O hither! 1828. ELEGY. IV. 100. The extinguished joy of crazy years On me rests heavy, like dull debauch. But of by-gone days the grief, like wine In my soul the older, the stronger 't grows. Dark my path. Toil and pain promised are me By the Future's roughened sea. But not Death, O friends, I wish! But Life I wish: to think and suffer; Well I know, for me are joys in store 'Mid struggles, toils, and sorrows: Yet 'gain at times shall harmony drink in And tears I'll shed over Fancy's fruit,-- Yet mayhap at my saddened sunset Love will beam with farewell and smile. 1830. SORROW. III. 69. Ask not why with sad reflection 'Mid gayety I oft am darkened, Why ever cheerless eyes I raise, Why sweet life's dream not dear to me is; Ask not why with frigid soul I joyous love no longer crave, And longer none I call dear: Who once has loved, not again can love; Who bliss has known, ne'er again shall know; For one brief moment to us 't is given: Of youth, of joy, of tenderness Is left alone the sadness. 1817. DESPAIR. III. 41. Dear my friend, we are now parted, My soul's asleep; I grieve in silence. Gleams the day behind the mountain blue, Or rises the night with moon autumnal,-- Still thee I seek, my far off friend, Thee alone remember I everywhere, Thee alone in restless sleep I see. Pauses my mind, unwittingly thee I call; Listens mine ear, then thy voice I hear. And thou my lyre, my despair dost share, Of sick my soul companion thou! Hollow is and sad the sound of thy string, Grief's sound alone hast not forgot.... Faithful lyre, with me grieve thou! Let thine easy note and careless Sing of love mine and despair, And while listening to thy singing May thoughtfully the maidens sigh! 1816. A WISH. III. 38.