In One Sole Place

In one sole place a rose should blossom nowThat thou art dead;Out of thy grave alone its stem should grow,Should spring its lovely head;No other spot on earthMerits its birth.

And when the moon is waxing slowly brightI say, NowhereBut on thy grave should fall its silvery light;And gentle birds should there,There only, come to singThe tales of spring.

If thus the beauty of the world might beAmassed and kept,Then in that place I think that I should seeThee, thee whom I have wept,And, grief forborne awhile,Dare then to smile.