Page:An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry.pdf/78

74 These early leaves with many a voice
 * Exchange a converse sweet;

It is as if the amorous world
 * In a single kiss did meet.

And yet I know, in solitude
 * Is many a heart oppressed,

And many a youthful face doth find
 * From bitter tears no rest.

O God, within this soul of mine,
 * Each wish is lulled to sleep;

This only do I crave of thee,
 * That I my song may keep.

If Thou my gift of song would'st take,
 * No longer would I live,

Nor happy be, if for my song
 * Thou happiness would'st give.

The pale moon in the skies doth rest, A song hath risen in my breast.

The birds have come and did relate That our love hath been so great.