Nor wilt thou rest forever, weary heart. The last illusion is destroyed, That I eternal thought. Destroyed! I feel all hope and all desire depart, For life and its deceitful joys. Forever rest! Enough! Thy throbbings cease! Naught can requite thy miseries; Nor is earth worthy of thy sighs. Life is a bitter, weary load, The world a slough. And now, repose! |