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radiant eyes of brightest glow, Those flowing locks, with gold-light vieing; Those blooms, like flowers 'mid winter's snow. Have long to me been cause of sighing.

Long felt I, maid, the pains that come From loving with a love unspoken; As streams more deep will aye become Till bounds impeding them are broken.

In vain each devious art I try From thoughts of thee to gain diversion; In vain I wander, vain I fly, My steadfast heart rejects desertion.

For everywhere that form still seems 'Mid brightest scenes a sadness making; For ever present in my dreams— For ever present in my waking.