TRANSLATED BY JOSEPH JOHN MURPHY.*
No more I see the blissful Sun ; I feel the gloom of darkened days. Mine is their sadness ; joy is none. But I can feel, thou blissful Sari !
The warmth that kindles in thy rays.
No more I see the roses glow; But Heaven is bending over all. Mine is the heart of things. Although I see no more the roses glow,
I feel their fragrance ere they fall.
And, 0 my dearest ! though I see No looks of love, no smile of bliss, Grief were ingratitude in me.
What though thy form I cannot see ? I feel thy kiss.
What though mine eyes be quenched in shade P For me another light doth shine.
My spirit cannot be dismayed.
What though mine eyes be quenched in shade, When love is mine ?
• The original of this poem was printed in the Spectator of'Anguat 23rd, p. 250