O! I care not that my earthly lot
Hath little of Earth in it,
That years of love have been forgot
In the fever of a minute:
I heed not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you meddle with my fate
Who am a passerby.
It is not that my founts of bliss
Are gushing -- strange! with tears --
Or that the thrill of a single kiss
Hath palsied many years --
'Tis not that the flowers of twenty springs
Which have wither'd as they rose
Lie dead on my heart-strings
With the weight of an age of snows.
Not that the grass -- O! may it thrive!
On my grave is growing or grown-
But that, while I am dead yet alive
I cannot be, lady, alone.
First published in the Southern Literary Messenger, July 1835; revised and retitled "To One Departed" and printed in Graham's Magazine, March 1842.
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text),
listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
[ None yet in the database ]
Stéphane Mallarmé (1842 - 1898)
, "À F.", from Les Poèmes d'Edgar Poe, published 1889 [an adaptation]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
(Edgar Allan Poe)
, "To F--", 1845, published 1845 [an adaptation]
Text added to the website: 2011-03-11.
Notes about what "text verified" means can be found here.
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