Fortunio’s Song. — From the French of Alfred de Musset
COMRADES! in vain ye seek to learn
For whom I burn;
Not for a kingdom would I dare
Her name declare.
But we will chant in chorus still,—
If so you will,—
That she I love is blonde and sweet,
As blades of wheat.
Whate’er her wayward fancies ask
Becomes my task;
Should she my very life demand,
’Tis in her hand.
The pain of passion unrevealed
Can scarce be healed:
Such pain within my heart I bear,
To my despair:
Nathless I love her all too well
Her name to tell;
And I would sooner die than e’er
Her name declare.
George Murray.