PALER, paler, day by day,
Waxeth wordless Eva Gray,
Wasting through the heart away!

How shall those who wish her well,
Lift the shadow erst that fell
Round her from Love-s darken-d spell?

Would they have her feast with Song?
Ah! its voices but prolong
Like far echoes Memory-s wrong.

Would they to beguile her leisure
Sweet reliefs in music measure?
Music dreams of foregone pleasure.

Would they lure her where the spring
Gives the unshadow-d heart to wing
Upward like a bird and sing?

Still paler, paler, day by day,
Waxeth gentle Eva Gray,-
Wasting like a cloud away.