Its ceaseless ache regret for you,
And yet you know it not.
You have my soul and know it not,
It makes you God and worships you,
Forgets its claim on Heaven for you,
Forsakes its hope of life for you,
And yet—you know it not.
Its ceaseless ache regret for you,
And yet you know it not.
You have my soul and know it not,
It makes you God and worships you,
Forgets its claim on Heaven for you,
Forsakes its hope of life for you,
And yet—you know it not.