The Poetry Corner

The Spanish Lady's Love.

By Victor-Marie Hugo

DONNA SOL to HERNANI. ("Nous partirons demain.") [HERNANI, ACT I.] To mount the hills or scaffold, we go to-morrow: Hernani, blame me not for this my boldness. Art thou mine evil genius or mine angel? I know not, but I am thy slave. Now hear me: Go where thou wilt, I follow thee. Remain, And I remain. Why do I thus? I know not. I feel that I must see thee - see thee still - See thee for ever. When thy footstep dies, It is as if my heart no more would beat; When thou art gone, I am absent from myself; But when the footstep which I love and long for Strikes on mine ear again - then I remember I live, and feel my soul return to me. G. MOIR.