(Torquato Tasso from his cell at Ste. Anne, 1548)
Her beauty haunts me everywhere—
A lone lark singing as it flies—
Sweet, O sweet beyond compare.
Amber and gold meet in her hair,
Dark pools and starlight in her eyes;
Her beauty haunts me everywhere.
Slim body, petal soft and fair,
Cool lips, cool, cool as evening skies—
Sweet, O sweet beyond compare.
Pale fingers delicate and rare,
To lull and lure caressing-wise;
Her beauty haunts me everywhere.
Here in my dungeon dim and bare
The last frail not of music dies—
Sweet, O sweet beyond compare.
My heart? I steeled it not to care. . . .
But God! her love is paradise!
Her beauty haunts me everywhere,
O sweet, sweet, sweet beyond compare!