Think that he is now thy slave, who, when he wooed thee, was thy King;
Think that not the brightest morning can to him contentment bring,
Till the light of other moments in thy melting eyes he trace,
And the gates of Paradise are opened in thy warm embrace.
Since thou knowest that death to me and thee will strike an equal blow,
It is just that, while we live, our hearts with equal hopes should glow.
Then no longer vex thy lover with complaints that he may change;
Darling, oft these bitter questions can the fondest love estrange;
No, I dream not of estrangement, for thy Chico evermore
Thinks upon his Vindaraja's image only to adore."