Heart all filled with sorrow mused he so:
"All the little birds are now awake,
All, embracing with their little wings,
Greeting, all have sung their morning songs.
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,