What were the gifts of a thousand lovers
To that one perfect song of thine,
Whose liquid cadence around me hovers
Steeping my soul in bliss divine. O to live and to love forever!
Out of my petals fades the red;
The night and thy song, O love, are over;
I am dying, and thou--art fled. Fled! Live on then, --and love another;
That can not rob me of my bliss,
Though thou shouldst woo a hundred, no other,
Never a one, wilt thou love like this! Thou too must pass death's shadowy portal;
Naught will remain but this song of thine.
Life is fleeting but song is immortal;
Half of thy fame is also mine. I dare not weep though I fade forever;
More from a century none could win.
This is my joy, that never, oh never,
Save for me, love, thy song had been!