Well, my king, in silence sad
trip we after what we read
We the globe can compass soon
swifter than the wandering moon
I look to like,
if looking liking prays
I gather thorns,
seek nights to happy days
On life's vast ocean do we sail
I pity myself, cause passion is the gale
Tears augmenting the fresh morning-dew
I know my grievance or be much denied
Mistempered sorrow, fear me not !
You dreamt a dream tonight and so did I
And since You wove dreams of joy and fear
which made me terrible and dear
But I arose and saw the dawn
when light rode high and dew was gone