Sinopsis

My heart, love, is a lyre, And over its silver strings Love's melody runs, as if every wire Were touched by a fairy's wings. They flash with a transient fire, And the soul for a moment sings ;— But ever the ionate notes expire In meaningless murmurings. I love, and love, and love ; For thee doth the life-flame burn : No fonder song in the heavens above Could tell how the spirits yearn !