5-31-08
| Lady: |
Where have you gone, my sweetest one? I search although my eyes have yet to see. First here, then there, where are you now? My weary feet trod paths foreign to me. |
| Lover: |
List' to me, mine darling one; Your feet have traveled far. Rest in shade of yonder tree And turn your gaze to stars. |
| Lady: |
I cannot rest whilst you are gone! You know I can't, for I've already tried. Must I abide the starry sky That twinkles bright without you by my side? |
| Lover: |
List' to me, mine fairest maid; Your heart is greatly tried. Saddened by your weariness, This sight I can't abide. |
| Lady: |
That I should cause you pain, I'd not! Why hurt the one to whom I owe my soul? Without your heart, I'll slowly die-- I cannot rest until again I'm whole. |
| Lover: |
List' to me, oh sweetest love; You mustn't give up hope, But, rest not, and you shall die-- Then both of us should go. |
| Lady: |
Don't speak like that, oh tease me not! I'd ne'er wish such a horrid fate on thee. But tell me, love, if I should die Are mem'ries not enough e'en without me? |
| Lover: |
List' to me, mine seraphim; Our hearts are bound as one. Neither can alone still live, We're bound, and it is done. |
| Lady: |
Without you here, I've lost myself. I fear I'll never feel you by my side. You love me, leave me--leave me pain; You leave me broken under moonlit skies. |
| Lover: |
Then let me give a gift to thee And swear it will be true. Mine heart is yours, its hope, its love, Its all I give to you. |
This one was for a more practical purpose in the story my best friend and I are writing. (For the record, she's the reason it's a romantic story, I'm doing the political part, and I only volunteered to do the romantic poetry because I'm rather more versed in poetry than she is and have more free time besides.) When the two characters who fall in love part seemingly for the last time, she quotes the lady's last stanza, not knowing that he has read this poet; he, in response, quotes back the lover's reply. It's sappy. I know. So sue me. Actually, sue my best friend, most of the sap is her fault. ...Though I did write the poem on my own... hrm...