Liebestod
WHEN I was bold, when I was bold—
And that’s a hundred years!—
Oh, never I thought my breast could hold
The terrible weight of tears.
I said: “Now some be dolorous;
I hear them wail and sigh,
And if it be Love that play them thus,
Then never a love will I.”
I said: “I see them rack and rue,
I see them wring and ache,
And little I’ll crack my heart in two
With little the heart can break.”
When I was gay, when I was gay—
It’s ninety years and nine!—
Oh, never I thought that Death could lay
His terrible hand in mine.
I said: “He plies his trade among
The musty and infirm,
A body so hard and bright and young
Could never be meat for worm.”
“I see him dull their eyes,” I said,
“And still their rattling breath.
And how under God could I be dead
That never was meant for Death?”
[ 60 ]
