FORTUNIO’S SONG. From the French of Alfred de Musset.
Reading edition
COMRADES! in vain ye seek to learn For whom I burn; Not for a kingdom would I dare Her name declare. But we will chant in chorus still,— If so you will,— That she I love is blonde and sweet, As blades of wheat. Whate’er her wayward fancies ask Becomes my task; Should she my very life demand, ’Tis in her hand. The pain of passion unrevealed Can scarce be healed: Such pain within my heart I bear, To my despair: Nathless I love her all too well Her name to tell; And I would sooner die than e’er Her name declare. George Murray.