THE CRY OF THE DESERTED ONE I OH, that I had some sweet magical charm, To cast over him who enchants my soul Over him whom I love so well. II If only a share of the deep, deep throbs Were echoed in his to the smallest degree, To even a thousandth part. III Oh, then would it leap with supremest joy, Oh, then would the life-stream rush through my frame, Which slowly is languishing now! IV Ah, there was a time when the whisper of love But now hath his heart grown cold as the sea, V Where then shall I find the magical wand, Or elixir worthy all cost, To kindle again the fire of his love; The love that is doomed to be lost. VI Ah, what is my beauty? my empire is gone— When he who's my world, my life, and my joy No longer looks into my face? VII No longer dwells he on the sound of my voice Which he singled from out the world's throng; Its music is gone; 'tis now like the lyre Whose strings are all broken-unstrung. VIII If only its chords were touched by his hand IX Oh, must I then cherish his image no more, And crush out the love that's sapping my life, X Can the sunflower forget the bright orb of day, Her idol, her lover confessed? And oh, can the rose forget the soft dew That nightly doth fall on her breast? XI In the infinite future of love His spirit will come to my side; In the eternity endless I'll gain That love which on earth he denied. TO MY BROTHER I WHEN Autumn brings the russet leaf, Makes rhythm in the meadows fair, II Then Nature's poetry is sung, To make her music with sweet tongue 'Twas thus in sweetest time of year A little babe thou camest, To fill thy niche, and unknown here On earth a place thou claimest. III And when the harvest moon shines clear; With stronger lustre beameth, Then memory brings thee very near And at my side thou seemeth To list, and wonder as before, IV But soon I wake and find thee gone ;- I here, thou there, and all alone, And yearly as the Autumn wanes |