Chrysilla

When the cup is filled full and my strength shall be failing,

O Goddess, spare me the sight about my bed,

Of regretting time that cuts too late the thread,

Tearless ending, a life undesir'd, unavailing.

Arm thou but Love instead! Of old upon my heart he wars;

Full well I know that he were fain to dye the earth with cruel red,

And see my life's blood rain burst streaming from the wound

Of his last, fiercest dart.

Ah no! Let my lost youth with a smile,

Then draw nigh me, in naked beauty standing silently by me,

Letting fall one by one the soft petals of a rose.

“Farewell” the fountain sobs, and calmly mine ear hearkens.

What need of scythe or dart? Mine eyelids then will close,

Sealed with a last long kiss as the shadow darkens.