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John Schellhase 161
From Chapter XXXIX
Alas. Overcome by a multitude of sighs
And thoughts that fill my heart with misery,
I am so tired I cannot lift my eyes
To look at those who come to comfort me.
Each eye, I feel, expresses a desire -
One to mourn my mistress, the other to let
The world know of my grief - and Love’s bright fire
Rings each with martyrdom’s red coronet.
And in my heart, where he has dwelled so long,
Love starts to faint, exhausted by my pain
And by the labored way that I now breathe.
For every sigh that hovers past my tongue
Bears the inscription of my lady’s name
And words about her death.