II.
NOW with the summer she has come again: Outside the birds sing as they sang that day, And summer things upon the air are gay; But she sits speechless, and her eyes are fain To hide from me their mystery of pain. . . . From heaven to earth, oh, dim and far the way! Why hast thou come? Be merciful and say— Of what strange wrong do thy veiled looks complain?
Hast thou brought back sad secrets from the skies; Or is it that the old days haunt thee still? Is that immortal sorrow in thine eyes Token of longings Heaven could not fulfil? Dear ghost, I pray thee answer, and forego The stern resolve of thy unspoken woe.