ce it;
Yet never more at morning, noon, or night,
Cometh there answer back, Eurydice,
Thy voice speaks never more, Eurydice;
O far, death-stricken, lost Eurydice!

Hear'st thou my weary cries, Eurydice?
Hearing, but answering not from out the past,
Wrapp'd in thy robe of everlasting light,
Round which the accents flutter faintingly,
Like larks slow panting upward to the sun?
Or roll the golden sands of day away,
And never more the voice of my despair
Trickles among them o'er thine unmoved ear,
Though every grove doth multiply the sound,
And all the land sigh forth "Eurydice"?

My heart is all untamed for evermore;
The strings hang loose and warp'd for evermore;
The rocks resound not with my olden songs,
Nor melt in echoes on the tranced breeze;
The streams flow on to music all their own;
The magic of my lyre hath pass'd away,
For Love ne'er sweeps sweet music from its chords;
For thou art pass'd away, Eurydice;
Thou tuner of my song, Eurydice;
And there is nought to guide the erring tones
That once breath'd but of thee, Eurydice;
That made each breeze sweet with Eurydice;
And taught each fountain and each running stream
To sing of thee, O lost Eurydice!

The serpent saw thee, O Eurydice!
The serpent slew thee, O Eurydice!
Stealing amongst the grass, Eurydice;
The long rank grass, that stretched Briarian arms
To clasp thee to itself, Eurydice!
And soon they laid thee from the sight of men;
Laid thee beneath the rankly waving grass;
Opening Earth's portals wide to let thee wend
Forth to Plutonian realms of gloom away;
And never more about the waiting land
Stray'd thy light steps at morn or shady eve.
No fountain hid thine image in its heart;
No flowers leapt up to wreathe thy golden hair;
No more the fawns within the forest glade
Follow'd a foot more lightsome than their own;
The moon stole through the night in dim surprise;
And all the stars look'd pale with wondering;
For thou cam'st not, O lost Eurydice!
Earth found thee not, O lost Eurydice!
Love found thee not, O lost Eurydice!

I could not stay where thou wert not, forlorn;
I could not live, O lost Eurydice!--
Not Acheron itself could fright me back
From where thy footsteps wander'd, best beloved!
And so I sought thee e'en at Hades' gate,
Charm'd wide its leaves with melody of woe,
And dared the grave to keep me from thine arms;
I flow'd away upon a stream of song,
E'en to dark Pluto's grimly guarded throne,
Melting the cruel Cerberus himsel