。O“风口。经过长时间悲伤和pain . To find the arms of my true love . Round me once again!2. When I was wont to meet her . In the silent woody places . By the home that gave me birth, . We stood tranced in long embraces . Mixt with kisses sweeter sweeter . Than anything on earth.2. A shadow flits before me, . Not thou, but like to thee: . Ah Christ, that it were possible . For one short hour to see . The souls we loved, that they might tell us . What and where they be.2. It leads me forth at evening, . It lightly winds and steals . In a cold white robe before me, . When all my spirit reels . At the shouts, the leagues of lights, . And the roaring of the wheels.2. Half the night I waste in sighs, . Half in dreams I sorrow after . The delight of early skies; . In a wakeful doze I sorrow . For the hand, the lips, the eyes, . For the meeting of the morrow, . The delight of happy laughter, . The delight of low replies.2. 'Tis a morning pure and sweet, . And a dewy splendour falls . On the little flower that clings . To the turrets and the walls; . 'Tis a morning pure and sweet, . And the light and shadow fleet; . She is walking in the meadow, . And the woodland echo rings; . In a moment we shall meet; . She is singing in the meadow, . And the rivulet at her feet . Ripples on in light and shadow . To the ballad that she sings.2. So I hear her sing as of old, . My bird with the shining head, . My own dove with the tender eye? . But there rings on a sudden a passionate cry, . There is some one dying or dead, . And a sullen thunder is roll'd; . For a tumult shakes the city, . And I wake, my dream is fled; . In the shuddering dawn, behold, . Without knowledge, without pity, . By the curtains of my bed . That abiding phantom cold.2. Get thee hence, nor come again, . Mix not memory with doubt, . Pass, thou deathlike type of pain, . Pass and cease to move about! . 'Tis the blot upon the brain . That will show itself without.2. Then I rise, the eave-drops fall, . And the yellow vapours choke . The great city sounding wide; . The day comes, a dull red ball . Wrapt in drifts of lurid smoke . On the misty river-tide.2. Thro'the hubbub of the market . I steal, a wasted frame; . It crosses here, it crosses there, . Thro'all that crowd confused and loud, . The shadow still the same; . And on my heavy eyelids . My anguish hangs like shame.2. Alas for her that met me, . That heard me softly call, . Came glimmering thro'the laurels . At the quiet evenfall, . In the garden by the turrets . Of the old manorial hall.2. Would the happy spirit descend . From the realms of light and song, . In the chamber or the street, . As she looks among the blest, . Should I fear to greet my friend . Or to say "Forgive the wrong," . Or to ask her, "Take me, sweet, . To the regions of thy rest"?2. But the broad light glares and beats, . And the shadow flits and fleets . And will not let me be; . And I loathe the squares and streets, . And the faces that one meets, . Hearts with no love for me: . Always I long to creep . Into some still cavern deep, . There to weep, and weep, and weep . My whole soul out to thee....