‘Tis given us to roam the earth
As broken-hearted ghosts
The sun-rays will too strong be for our eyes
And in the pale moon-light
The lakes will on their bosoms want
Our feet to glide and skim the waters wild.
The flame, the flame of life still burns
I wonder how: so many sufferings
Have assailed it: I know not how
The flame of life still burns:
And we still roam the earth
As broken-hearted ghosts
The winter frost doth pity take on us
The summer heat suspends
Where it sees us: and the green Spring
Brings birds and lays to us:
Still our ear hears, still the note
Of the dark nightingale in the lost wood
Strikes our heart and thrills our marrow cold
With a sweet thrill we felt full years ago
The flame of life still burns
The flame of life still burns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem