Explore "A Spring Dirge" by Ameen Rihani on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sad, sad, sad -- / In vain thou comest, Spring; / Sad, sad, sad -- / In vain thy birds all sing: / Perfumeless is thy rose; / Thy breeze, which softly blows, / Disturbs my sea of woes, / Ay, Death is on the wing.
Gone, gone, gone -- / Go seek her, mocking Spring; / Gone, gone, gone -- / Aside thy garlands fling; / Destroy thy laughing bower; / Call back an April shower / To weep with me this hour: / He came, not reckoning.
Love, love, love -- / What sendest thou with Spring?
Love, love, love -- / What tidings these birds bring!
They tell me they can hear / Thee, in a higher sphere; / But can that dry a tear, / Or give my wish a wing?