  O list to this spring time’s terrible jest! In savage troops the maidens fair Are rushing along with fluttering hair, And howls of anguish and naked breast:— Adonis! Adonis! The night falls fast. By torchlight clear They sadly explore each forest track, Which mournful answers is echoing back Of laughter, sobs, sighs, and cries of fear:— Adonis! Adonis! That youthful figure, so wondrous fair, Now lies on the ground all pale and dead; His blood has dyed each floweret red, And mournful sighs resound through the air:— Adonis! Adonis! |
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