Oh, briefer than the fairest summer day
The little hour before we meet again!
Soon, soon I’ll follow thee, and all of these!
The reaper hath his sickle in the corn.
He is a madman, but the field is God’s,
And God will garner up the fallen ears,
And in another life we two shall meet!
The Marquise
And wilt thou love me then? Ah, no! Ah, no!
De Vardes