Dear heart, why will you use me so?
— Dear eyes that gently me upbraid,
Still are you beautiful — but O,
— How is your beauty raimented!

Through the clear mirror of your eyes,
— Through the soft cry of kiss to kiss,
Desolate winds assail with cries
— The shadowy garden where love is.

And soon shall love dissolved be
— When over us the wild winds blow —
But you, dear love, too dear to me,
— Alas! why will you use me so?