Felicia Dorothea Hemans (1793–1835)

MOURNFULLY, sing mournfully,

And die away my heart!

The rose, the glorious rose, is gone,

And I, too, will depart.

The skies have lost their splendor,

The waters changed their tone,

And wherefore, in the faded world,

Should music linger on?

Where is the golden sunshine,

And where the flower-cup’s glow?

And where the joy of the dancing leaves,

And the fountain’s laughing flow?

Tell of the brightness parted,

Thou bee, thou lamb at play!

Thou lark, in thy victorious mirth!

Are ye, too, passed away?

With sunshine, with sweet odor,

With every precious thing,

Upon the last warm southern breeze,

My soul its flight shall wing.

Alone I shall not linger

When the days of hope are past,

To watch the fall of leaf by leaf,

To wait the rushing blast.

Triumphantly, triumphantly,

Sing to the woods, I go!

For me, perchance, in other lands

The glorious rose may blow.

No more, no more, sing mournfully!

Swell high, then break, my heart!

The rose, the royal rose, is gone,

And I, too, will depart.