The self banished
Language:
English
It is not that I love you less
Than when before your feet I lay:
But to prevent the sad increase
Of hopeless love, I keep away.
In vain! (alas!) for ev'ry thing
Which I have known belong1 to you,
Your form does to my fancy bring,
And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
Who in the Spring from the new Sun
Already has a fever got,
Too late begins those shafts to shun,
Which Phoebus through his veins has shot.
Too late he would the pain assuage,
And to shadows thick he doth retire;
About with him he bears the [rage]2,
And in his tainted blood the fire.3
But vow'd I have, and never must
Your banish'd servant trouble you;
For if I break, you may [distrust]4
The vow I made to love you, too.
View text without footnotes
1 [sic]
2 Elgar: "pain"
3 Elgar here adds Absence is vain for ev'ry thing
That I have known belong to you,
Your form does to my fancy bring,
And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
4 Elgar: "mistrust"
Authorship
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text),
listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Date added to the website: 2009-02-07.
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