Plainte eternelle
by Alfred Douglas
The sun sinks down, the tremulous daylight dies,
Down their long shafts the weary sun-beams glide
The white-winged ships drift with the falling tide.
Come back, my love, with pity in your eyes!
The tall white ships drift with the falling tide.
Far, far away I hear the seamews' cries
Come back, my love, with pity in your eyes!
There is no room now in my heart for pride,
Come back, come back! with pity in your eyes,
The night is dark, the sea is fierce and wide
There is no room now in my heart for pride
Though I become the scorn of all the wise.
I have no place now in my heart for pride.
The moon and stars have fallen from the skies
Though I become the scorn of all the wise,
Thrust, if you will, sharp arrows in my side.
Let me become the scorn of all the wise.
Out of the East I see the morning ride
Thrust, if you will, sharp arrows in my side,
Play with my tears and feed upon my sighs.
Wound me with swords, put arrows in my side,
On the white sea the haze of noon-day lies
Play with my tears and feed upon my sighs,
But come, my love, before my heart has died.
Drink my salt tears and feed upon my sighs,
Westward the evening goes with one red stride
Come back, my love, before my heart has died,
Down sinks the sun, the tremulous day-light dies.
Come back! my love, before my heart has died,
Out of the South I see the pale moon rise
Down sinks the sun, the tremulous day-light dies,
The white-winged ships drift with the falling tide.
1896
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