Day in melting purple dying, Blossoms all around me sighing, Fragrance from the lilies straying, Zephyr with my ringlets playing, Ye but waken my distress: I am sick of loneliness. Thou to whom I love to hearken, Come ere night around me darken: Though thy softness but deceive me, Say thou ’rt true, and I ’ll believe thee. Veil, if ill, thy soul’s intent: Let me think it innocent! Save thy toiling, spare thy treasure: All I ask is friendship’s pleasure: Let the shining ore lie darkling; Bring no gem in lustre sparkling; Gifts and gold are nought to me: I would only look on thee; Tell to thee the high-wrought feeling, Ecstasy but in revealing; Paint to thee the deep sensation, Rapture in participation, Yet but torture, if comprest In a lone unfriended breast. Absent still? Ah, come and bless me! Let these eyes again caress thee. Once, in caution, I could fly thee. Now I nothing could deny thee. In a look if death there be, Come, and I will gaze on thee!
Song of Egla
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