I have drunk your tears with insatiate lips...

I have drunk your tears with insatiate lips;

I have broken like a toy the heart of your life;

What have I given? your last query!

The cup of my heart filled I with love;

The chalice of soul with the substance of my God,

For thee to drink my life's first love.

Thou drankest as one that comes from a desert,

Thou spiltest the nectar heedless, like mad;

Yet I cursed not, nor shed tears;

But loved thee, longed to live for thy love.

Alas! thy tears grew salt, thy love thy self's greedy grasp,—

O, it is the end; let us part!

The morning of indifference wings the gray sky;

The bird-song of the other dawns the raven's shriek now,—

Shed no more tears, I tire of my drink;

Break not thy heart; thy soul? Let it be still!

Beyond the gray-cloud is the land of sunrise:

Let us part, dear, let us be wise.