You leave us: you will see the Rhine,
⁠And those fair hills I sail'd below,
⁠When I was there with him; and go
By summer belts of wheat and vine

To where he breathed his latest breath,
⁠That City. All her splendour seems
⁠No livelier than the wisp that gleams
On Lethe in the eyes of Death.

Let her great Danube rolling fair
⁠Enwind her isles, unmarked of me:
⁠I have not seen, I will not see
Vienna; rather dream that there,

A treble darkness, evil haunts
⁠The birth, the bridal; friend from friend,
⁠Is oftener parted, fathers bend
Above more graves, a thousand wants