The Return Home, 32

’Tis thought that I am tormented,
By love’s bitter sorrow distress’d,
And at length I myself believe it
As well as all the rest.

Thou great-eyed little maiden,
I ever have whisper’d apart:
I love thee beyond expression,
While love is gnawing my heart.

’Twas but in my lonely chamber
That I dared my love to proclaim,
And, ah! I have ever been silent,
When into thy presence I came.

When there, the evil angels
Appear’d, and my lips they held;
And, ah! ’tis by evil angels
That my joy hath now been dispell’d.