Lost Love. (From the Gaelic, Western Isles.)

My heart! my pulse! my flame!
O the gloom, O the pain!
He has no wish to save me
Who will not come again.

Love! Love! Love!
The fair cheek, the dark hair,
The promise forgotten;
’Twill go with me there.

False! false! false!
O, youth is false for ever:
He loves far more than living me—
The lifeless heather.

The hunting field,
The greenwood tree,
The trout, the running deer, he loves,
Far more than me.

He loves—loves—loves
To stalk the frightened doe;
He never heeds the pain he gives,
His skill to show.

O, the dark blue eye—
A flower wet with dew;
O, the fair false face—
Too sweet to view!

Love! Love! Love!
The fair cheek, the dark hair!
For him I’d scale the walls of hell
Gin he were there!