Couldst thou look as dear as when

  First I sighed for thee;

Couldst thou make me feel again

Every wish I breathed thee then,

  Oh, how blissful life would be!

Hopes that now beguiling leave me,

  Joys that lie in slumber cold—

All would wake, couldst thou but give me

  One dear smile like those of old.

No—there's nothing left us now,

  But to mourn the past;

Vain was every ardent vow—

Never yet did Heaven allow

  Love so warm, so wild, to last.

Not even hope could now deceive me—

  Life itself looks dark and cold;

Oh, thou never more canst give me

  One dear smile like those of old