Paul Verlaine

Come, my poor heart, come, old friend true and tried,

Repaint your triumph's arches, raised anew;

Smoke tinsel altars with stale incense; strew

Flowers before the chasm, gaping wide;

Come, my poor heart, come, old friend true and tried.
Cantor revivified, sing God your hymn;

Hoarse organ-pipes, intone Te Deums proud;

Make up your aging face, youth wrinkle-browed;

Bedeck yourself in gold, wall yellow-dim;

Cantor revivified, sing God your hymn.
Ring, bells; peal, chimes; peal, ring, bells large and small!

My hopeless dream takes shape: for Happiness-

-Here, now--lies clutched, embraced in my caress;

Winged Voyager, who shuns Man's every call;-

-Ring, bells; peal, chimes; peal, ring, bells large and small!
Happiness once walked side by side with me;

But DOOM knows no reprieve, there's no mistaking:

The worm is in the fruit; in dreaming, waking;

In loving, mourning. And so must it be.-

-Happiness once walked side by side with me.