A SINGHALESE LOVE LAMENT

As the cocoanut-palm

That pines, my love,

Away from the sound

Of the planter's voice,

Am I, for I hear

No more resound

Your song by the pearl-strewn sea!

The sun may come

And the moon wax round,

And in its beam

My mates may rejoice,

But I feast not

And my heart is dumb,

As I long, O long, for thee!

In the jungle-deeps,

Where the cobra creeps,

The leopard lies

In wait for me.

But O, my love,

When the daylight dies

There is more to my dread than he!

Harsh lonely tears

That assail my eyes

Are worse to bear,

For the misery

That makes them well

Is the long, long years

That I moan away from thee!

O again, again,

In my katamaran

A-keel would I push

To your palmy door!

Again would I hear

The heave and hush

Of your song by the plantain-tree.

But far away

Do I toil and crush

The hopes that arise

At my sick heart's core.

For never near

Does it come, the day

That draws me again to thee!