But, alas! that sweetest doveling mine,
She who was my youth’s first dawning love,
In her chamber slumbers fast and deep.
Ah, not even her friend is in her dreams,
Ah! no thought of me bedims her soul,
While my heart is torn with wildest grief,
That she comes to meet me here no more.”
Stepped the maiden from her chamber then;
Wet, oh, wet with tears her lovely face!
All with sadness dimmed her eyes so clear,