Book 3
put off this mortal form; which only means
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I wish the object of my love away.
Grief saps my strength, the sands of life are run,
and in my early youth am I cut off;
but death is not my bane—it ends my woe.—
I would not death for this that is my love,
as two united in a single soul
He spoke; and crazed with love,
returned to view the same face in the pool;
and as he grieved his tears disturbed the stream,
and ripples on the surface, glassy clear,
defaced his mirrored form. And thus the youth,
when he beheld that lovely shadow go;
“Ah whither cost thou fly? Oh, I entreat
thee leave me not. Alas, thou cruel boy
thus to forsake thy lover. Stay with me
that I may see thy lovely form, for though
I may not touch thee I shall feed my eyes
and soothe my wretched pains.” And while he spoke
he rent his garment from the upper edge,
and beating on his naked breast, all white
as marble, every stroke produced a tint
as lovely as the apple streaked with red,
or as the glowing grape when purple bloom
touches the ripening clusters.
again the rippling waters smoothed, and when
such beauty in the stream the youth observed,
no more could he endure. As in the flame
the yellow wax, or as the hoar-frost melts
in early morning 'neath the genial sun;
so did he pine away, by love consumed,
and slowly wasted by a hidden flame.
No vermeil bloom now mingled in the white
of his complexion fair; no strength has he,
no vigor, nor the comeliness that wrought
for love so long: alas, that handsome form
by Echo fondly loved may please no more.
But when she saw him in his hapless plight,
