A song of hopeless love.

I may seek her blooms forever,
but shall clasp the flower never.
'It is written' she has written,
'shadow yields to light of day.
yet such light has passed away.
For the scrivener of fortune,
lures my steps another way.'

So I breathe in deepest sorrow,
and prepare, upon the morrow,
to abandon, yes, abandon,
these wild dreams and take my flight.
Yet I cannot stand the night.
Let me stumble through my shadows,
all despairing of her light.