O list to this spring time’s terrible jest!
In savage troops the maidens fair
Are rushing along with fluttering hair,
And howls of anguish and naked breast:—
Adonis! Adonis!
The night falls fast. By torchlight clear
They sadly explore each forest track,
Which mournful answers is echoing back
Of laughter, sobs, sighs, and cries of fear:—
Adonis! Adonis!
That youthful figure, so wondrous fair,
Now lies on the ground all pale and dead;
His blood has dyed each floweret red,
And mournful sighs resound through the air:—
Adonis! Adonis!