1221.

Thou art not evening, but a spear that doth devour

The souls of brides: farewell, thou evening hour!

1222.

Thine eye is sad; Hail, doubtful hour of eventide!

Of cruel eye, as is my spouse, is too thy bride?

1223.

With buds of chilly dew wan evening's shade enclose

My anguish buds apace, and all my sorrow grows.

1224.

When absent is my love, the evening hour descends,

As when an alien host to field of battle wends.

1225.

O morn, how have I won thy grace? thou bring'st relief!

O eve, why art thou foe? thou dost renew my grief.

1226.

The pangs that evening brings I never knew,

Till he, my wedded spouse, from me withdrew

1227.

My grief at morn a bud, all day an opening flower,

Full-blown expands in evening hour.

1228.

The shepherd's pipe is like a murderous weapon, to my ear,

For it proclaims the hour of ev'ning's fiery anguish near.

1229.

If evening's shades, that dar'ken all my soul, extend;

From this afflicted town will sound of grief ascend.

1230.

This darkening eve, my darkling soul must perish utterly;

Remembering him who seeks for wealth, but seeks not me.