When in my night, like gaunt, gray phantoms, rise
The wild-eyed hours of brooding revery,
If in my heart a sudden anguish cries
That thou also hast passed away from me,
If I but think that one regretful sigh
Thy joyless love has breathed unaware,
I know not what a barren will to die
Dissolves my strength into a mute despair.
Oh, if upon thy breast I could then lay
My weary head and hear thee sing again
That old sweet song, and as it dies away
Exhale my spirit in its last refrain!