30.
In my remembrance blossom
The images long forsaken—
Within thy voice what is there
By which so deeply I’m shaken?
Say not that thou dost love me!
I know that earth’s fairest treasure,
Sweet love and happy spring time,
’Twould shame beyond all measure.
Say not that thou dost love me!
A silent kiss I’ll bestow thee;
Then smile, when I to-morrow
The withered roses show thee.