Louisa Stuart Costello: Verses about Heart

When this heart is cold and still,
And can throb for thee no more;
When it wakes not to the thrill
Of the harp's wild chord;
Nor can e'en afford
A sigh to the days of yore;

Then come to my silent tomb,
Which the breeze will murmur over:
Where reigns the deepest gloom—
Where the bat flits by
And the ravens cry—
Thou shalt the spot discover.

Odi quelrusignolo

Che va di ramo in ramo

Cantado; io amo; io amo.

Tasso's Aminta


This mournful heart can dream of nought but thee,

As with slow steps among these shades I move,

And hear the nightingale from tree to tree

Sighing "I love! I love!"


This mournful heart wakes to one thought alone

That still our fatal parting will renew,

To hear that bird when Spring's last eve is gone

Sighing "Adieu! Adieu!"