The tender spring comes tremblingly;
Quiv'ring, the blossoms softly break;
Each zephyr breathing gently by,
New forms, new beauties seem to wake.
So trembling wakes my love for thee,
So fetters burst, springs fair and free.
O first sweet love! O maiden mine!
O strange new love! O birth divine!
Full summer now — the genial hours
Lend radiant noon to glowing night.
Full summer — see the gleaming flowers
Basking in fervid life and light.
And love too has its perfect noon,
Its summer sun, its summer moon;
In thy deep radiant eyes, my queen,
My triumph lies — there love is seen.
Adown the fields the golden grain
Hangs heavy on the burdened stems,
Through shimmering leaves the fruits again
Gleam ruddy ripe, rich autumn's gems.
Hearts' harvest too I gather in.
Love, sweet to cherish, sweet to win;
For future days o'erflowing store.
Love, could I ever love thee more!
Where are the flowers? where the leaves?
Where the sweet zephyrs' gentle breath?
Where mellowed fruits and jolden sheaves?
Dead, dead; all icy bound in death!
Is love too dead? Hence, leedless pain!
Love only sleeps to wake again.
Love dead? Ah no, not so with love!
Love only dies to live above.