There’s a tremulous glance of the eye,
The thought she might chance yet to come:
But who then would greet her with song?
Your day has flown, your vision of her—
A time this for gnawing the heart.
I’ve plunged just now in deep waters:
Oh the strife and vexation of soul!
No mortal goes scathless of love.
A wife thou estranged, I a husband estranged,
Mere husks to be cast to the swine. [203]