Redden outward with sorrow; while all hear her go
With the song of her sadness, through mountain and city.
V.
Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead:
Fair Adonis is dead—Echo answers, Adonis!
Who weeps not for Cypris, when, bowing her head,
She stares at the wound where it gapes and astonies?
—When, ah, ah!—she saw how the blood ran away
And empurpled the thigh; and, with wild hands flung out,
Said with sobs, "Stay, Adonis! unhappy one, stay,—
Let me feel thee once more—let me ring thee about
With the clasp of my arms, and press kiss into kiss!
Wait a little, Adonis, and kiss me again,
For the last time, beloved; and but so much of this,
That the kiss may learn life from the warmth of the strain!
—Till thy breath shall exude from thy soul to my mouth;
To my heart; and, the love-charm I once more receiving,
May drink thy love in it, and keep, of a truth,
That one kiss in the place of Adonis the living.
Thou fliest me, mournful one, fliest me far,
My Adonis; and seekest the Acheron portal—
To Hell's cruel King, goest down with a scar,
While I weep, and live on like a wretched immortal,
And follow no step;—O Persephone, take him,
My husband!—thou'rt better and brighter than I;
