From the Portuguese ("Tu mi chamas")

In moments to delight devoted,
"My Life!" with tenderest tone, you cry;
Dear words! on which my heart had doted,
If Youth could neither fade nor die.

To Death even hours like these must roll,
Ah! then repeat those accents never;
Or change "my Life!" into "my Soul!"
Which, like my Love, exists for ever.

ANOTHER VERSION.

You call me still your Life.--Oh! change the word--
Life is as transient as the inconstant sigh:
Say rather I'm your Soul; more just that name,
For, like the soul, my Love can never die.