Burst, burst, my heart! the lovely youth is dead,
Who, like the dawn, was wont to bring me joy;
Now birds of prey will hover round his head,
And wild beasts seek his carcase to destroy;
While I who lov'd him, and was lov'd again,
With sighs and lamentable strains must tell,
How by no hero's valour he was slain,
But struggling with a beast inglorious fell!
This makes my tears with double anguish flow,
This adds affliction to my bitter woe!