This page has been validated.
200
ROMANCE
Joy in it less that its beauty
Blooms not to fade on his breast?
Nay: nor does one who at nightfall
Harkens the voice of the mavis
Feel less delight that the singer
Blesses him, high out of reach.
So, though you pass—and for ever,
Yet I, afar, shall remember
That the world holds such a maiden,
And, you remembering, love!
