Part 11 (2/2)

PUELLae

Nay, nay; but rather she forgetteth thee, To sit upon the sh.o.r.e of some warm sea, Or in green gardens where sweet fountains be.

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

AMANS

Will ye then keep me from the wilderness, Where I at least, alone with my distress, The quiet land of changing dreams may bless?

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

PUELLae

Forget the false forgetter and be wise, And 'mid these clinging hands and loving eyes, Dream, not in vain, thou knowest paradise.

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

AMANS

Ah! with your sweet eyes shorten not the day, Nor let your gentle hands my journey stay!

Perchance love is not wholly cast away.

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

PUELLae

Pluck love away as thou wouldst pluck a thorn From out thy flesh; for why shouldst thou be born To bear a life so wasted and forlorn?

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

AMANS

Yea, why then was I born, since hope is pain, And life a lingering death, and faith but vain, And love the loss of all I seemed to gain?

Let me depart, since ye are happy here.

PUELLae

Dost thou believe that this shall ever be, That in our land no face thou e'er shalt see, No voice thou e'er shalt hear to gladden thee?

Abide! abide! for we are happy here.

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