Текст оригинала на английском языке
Time, Hope And Memory
I heard a gentle maiden, in the spring, Set her sweet sighs to music, and thus sing: 'Fly through the world, and I will follow thee, Only for looks that may turn back on me; 'Only for roses that your chance may throw— Though withered—Twill wear them on my brow, To be a thoughtful fragrance to my brain,— Warm'd with such love, that they will bloom again.' 'Thy love before thee, I must tread behind, Kissing thy foot-prints, though to me unkind; But trust not all her fondness, though it seem, Lest thy true love should rest on a false dream.' 'Her face is smiling, and her voice is sweet; But smiles betray, and music sings deceit; And words speak false;—yet, if they welcome prove, I'll be their echo, and repeat their love.' 'Only if waken'd to sad truth, at last, The bitterness to come, and sweetness past; When thou art vext, then turn again, and see Thou hast loved Hope, but Memory loved thee.'
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