For with torches aflame
Of the Pelian pine,
And with bride-song I came
In that hour divine,
Upbearing the hand of a wife—thine hand, O darling mine!
Followed revellers, raising
Acclaim: ever broke
From the lips of them praising,
Of the dead as they spoke,
And of me, how the noble, the children of kings, Love joined 'neath his yoke. 920
But for bridal song
Is the wail for the dead,
And, for white-robed throng,
Black vesture hath led
Me to halls where the ghost of delight lieth couched on a desolate bed.
Chorus.
To the trance of thy bliss
Sudden anguish was brought.
Never lesson like this
To thine heart had been taught:
Yet thy life hast thou won, and thy soul hast delivered from death:—is it nought?
Thy wife hath departed:
Love tender and true 930
Hath she left:—stricken-hearted,
Wherein is this new?
Hath Death not unyoked from the chariot of Love full many ere you?
