Art thou then indeed so hostile,
Art thou tow’rds me changed so sadly?
I by all means shall lament it,
Thou hast treated me so badly.
O ungrateful lips, how could ye
Speak with malice cruel-hearted
Of the man who ofttimes kiss’d you
Lovingly, in days departed?
80.
Ah! once more the eyes are on me,
Which did greet me once with gladness,
And the lips once more address me,
Which once sweeten’d life’s long sadness.
E’en the voice I hear, whose accents
Charm’d me, as they sweetly falter’d;
I alone am not the same one,
Having home return’d, all-alter’d.
By those arms so white and beauteous
Lovingly embraced and closely,
To her heart I now am clinging,
Dull of feeling and morosely.
81.
On the walls of Salamanca
Soft refreshing winds are playing;
There, with my belovèd Donna,
On a summer’s eve I’m straying.
Round the fair one’s slender body
Doth my arm with rapture linger,
And her bosom’s haughty motion
Feel I with a loving finger.
Yet a whisper fraught with sorrow
Through the linden trees is moving,
And, beneath, the dusky millstream
Murmurs sad dreams, disapproving.