Beyond the river dark thou art. Between us rushing waters flow. There is no bridge, no boat have we, Nor wings to cross the river, so, I gaze upon thy smiling face And long to press my lips to thine, Though well I know I ne'er will hold Thee in my arms, O dearest mine! No hope relieves our hopelessness, Nor lights the brooding darkening sky. Delusion makes us bitter smile Through tears that blind the aching eye. Over the rushing waters wild My voice takes wing and towards thee flies, But mingling with the deafening roar In raging depths it swoons and dies. It's heart-corroding to behold The years pass like the stream in sighs... |