But where, alas! the vaults of sky

Shining are with glimmer blue,

Where 'neath the rocks the waters slumber -

With last sleep art sleeping thou.

And beauty thine and sufferings

In the urnal grave have disappeared -

But the kiss of meeting is also gone....

But still I wait: thou art my debtor!....

INVOCATION.

OH, if true it is that by night

When resting are the living

And from the sky the rays of moon

Along the stones of church-yard glide;

O, if true it is that emptied then

Are the quiet graves,

I - call thy shade, I wait my Lila

Come hither, come hither, my friend, to me!

Appear, O shade of my beloved

As thou before our parting wert:

Pale, cold, like a wintry day

Disfigured by thy struggle of death,

Come like unto a distant star,

Or like a fearful apparition,

'T is all the same: Come hither, come hither

And I call thee, not in order

To reproach him whose wickedness

My friend hath slain.

Nor to fathom the grave's mysteries,

Nor because at times I'm worn

With gnawing doubt... but I sadly

Wish to say that still I love thee,

That wholly thine I am: hither come, O hither!

1828.

ELEGY: THE EXTINGUISHED JOY OF CRAZY YEARS.

THE extinguished joy of crazy years