To ***
Don't ask me why alone in dismal thought
In times of mirth, I'm often filled with strife,
And why my weary stare is so distraught,
And why I don't enjoy the dream of life;
Don't ask me why my soul has slowly perished
And ceased to love the love that pleased me then
No longer can I call someone "my cherished"--
Who once has loved will never love again;
Who once felt bliss will never feel its essence,
A moment's happiness is all that we receive:
From youth, prosperity and joyful pleasance
All that is left is apathy and grief...
Bookmarks