Why weep her friends that fails her parting breath,
That cold the pressure of her powerless hand!
List!—Ye may hear from far the voice of death,
Calling from earth her soul to spirits' land.
Well do they know the fairies of the lake,
That with its waves have mingled oft her tears,
Here would she nature's solemn silence break
With the death-song of woman's hopes and fears.
I go,—I go,
Where is heard no more