TRAURIGKEIT.

I KNOW not what unheeded grace

Waits its sweet time for me;

I see the future's silent sails

Across the past's dark sea.

I dream my high dreams when the flag

Of sunset is unfurl'd, -

When the red mists of morning break

Over a desolate world.

My dreams are they: the destiny

That shall be mine again

Is a dim mirror, and the face

It shows is white with pain.