  From the Italian of Stecchetti. I.When the sere leaves fall and you come one To find me under the graveyard stone, It will be in a corner hidden away, With beds of flowers about it grown. Then gather and wreathe in your golden hair The flowers that grow from my heart laid there. They will be love’s message I might not bring, And the rest of the songs that I meant to sing. II.Floweret born in the hedge-row shade Set out of sight alone, Love like thee must hide his head Love like thee must live unknown. No smile of the sun, and thou wilt die, Thorns round thee and above, No smile of hope, and love will die, And none take heed.—Poor love! Poor love! From the German of Heine. I.How the mirrored moonbeams quiver On the waters’ fall and rise, Yet the moon serene as ever Wanders through the quiet skies. Like the mirrored moonlight’s fretting Are the dreams I have of you, For my heart will beat, forgetting You are ever calm and true. II.So fair and pure and holy, So flowerlike thou art, And while I gaze the shadow Grows deeper on my heart; That head of thine in prayer, That God will keep thee alway So holy pure and fair. III.The leaves are falling, falling, The yellow treetops wave, Ah, all delight and beauty Is drawing to the grave. About the wood’s crest flicker The wan sun’s laggard rays, They are the parting kisses Of fleeting summer days. Meseems I should be shedding The heart’s-tears from my eyes, The day will keep recalling The time of our good-byes. I knew that you were dying And I must pass away, Oh I was the waning summer, And you were the wood’s decay. IV.From my tears that have fallen a flower Is springing along the vale, And the sighs I have sighed endower The song of a nightingale. And, child, if you’ll be my lover, The flowers shall all be yours, And the bird with its song shall hover For ever before your doors. |
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