Ah! folly—yonder solemn sky
Is not for pity, but for prayer;
And Nature's universal eye
Weeps not, though one wrung heart despair.
Oh wind! that with a noiseless wing
Art wandering 'mid the olive grove,
In vain I ask of thee to bring
Some solace for my grief and love.
Let echo, by thy voice, reveal
All I would ask the wind to tell;
Echo might surely pity feel,
For sorrow she hath known so well.
Ah! bring me one beloved face,
Ah! breathe me one beloved name:
I wish I could one moment trace
His path of fortune, and of fame.
Yet wherefore should I seek to know
The path that I may never share;
Oh! flower, that for the sun dost blow,
Say thou how dear is such fond care.
Life cannot fling again the gleam
First flung on morning's glancing tide;
I'd rather keep its sweet sad dream
Than win a waking world beside.