BOOK IV., CHAP. XI

M Y grief no mortals know,
Except the yearning!
Alone, a prey to woe,
All pleasure spurning,
Up tow'rds the sky I throw
A gaze discerning.

He who my love can know
Seems ne'er returning;
With strange and fiery glow
My heart is burning.
My grief no mortals know,
Except the yearning!