Sad music and serene
For pity's sake, ah me, and the old time's sake,
And all that might have been.
For Love lies dead.
Love, the immortal, the victorious,
Is fallen and vanquished.
What charm can raise, what incantation rouse
That lowly, piteous head?
Why should I weep
My triumph? 'Twas my life or his. Behold