DOLORES.

The moon of my soul is dark, Dolores,

Dead and dark in my breast it lies,

For I miss the heaven of thy smile, Dolores,

And the light of thy brown bright eyes.

The rose of my heart is gone, Dolores,

Bud or blossom in vain I seek;

For I miss the breath of thy lip, Dolores,

And the blush of thy pearl-pale cheek.

The pulse of my heart is still, Dolores,

Still and chill is its glowing tide;

For I miss the beating of thine, Dolores,

In the vacant space by my side.

But the moon shall revisit my soul, Dolores,

And the rose shall refresh my heart,

When I meet thee again in heaven, Dolores,

Never again to part.