Non son scemo di fede
I am not faithless! no, oh no!
But with too fond belief
And heart too humble and too low
False I appear — with grief.
Pity me Lady! — and because
My stars will have me now
But the mere ghost of what I was,
To my poor shade allow
Another's by each outward sign
To seem — yet be more truly thine!
But with too fond belief
And heart too humble and too low
False I appear — with grief.
Pity me Lady! — and because
My stars will have me now
But the mere ghost of what I was,
To my poor shade allow
Another's by each outward sign
To seem — yet be more truly thine!
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