Then I replied, “My fortune’s gone astray,
And I long exiled ’mid this wood’s repose,
It happens I am one of whom men say,
‘A man astray, uncertain where he goes.’”
Then she, all smiles and godlike graciousness,
“Tell me, my friend, the reason, oh I pray.
Why is it you are lost in black Distress?
I may have power to set you on your way.
Long have I sought love’s pleasures to display
Unto your heart—I knew not of your woes.