II. Unacknowledged and Uncollected Translations. Pray for Me

By Charles-Hubert Millevoye

IN the hamlet desolate,

Brooding o’er his woes in vain,

Lay a young man, doomed by fate,

Wasted by disease and pain.

“People of the chaumière,”

Said he,“’t is the hour of prayer;

Ringing are the bells! all ye

Who are praying, pray for me!

“When you see the waterfall

Covered with dark boughs in spring,

You will say, He’s free from all,

All his pain and suffering.

Then returning to this shore

Sing your simple plaint once more,

And when ring the bells, all ye

Who are praying, pray for me.

“Falsehood I could not endure,

Was the enemy of hate;

Of an honest life and pure

The end approaches, and I wait.

Short my pilgrimage appears;

In the springtime of my years

I am dying; and all ye

Who are praying, pray for me.

“Best of friends and only friend,

Worthy of all love and praise,

Thine my life was to the end;

Ah, ’t was but a life of days.

People of the chaumière,

Pity, at the hour of prayer,

Her who comes with bended knee,

Saying also, Pray for me!”