Secret Grief of a Statesman

Who peach-trees in his garden grows
The peach anon will eat.
I, with a sad heart, sing my song.
And on my lute the song repeat;
And those who understand me not
Call me a master of supreme conceit.
"'Tis those are right," say they;
"And thou, what wouldst thou say?"
And so my heart still grieveth;
Yet none the cause perceiveth,
Not one the cause perceiveth; —
And why? — their thoughts are far away.

Who date-trees in his garden grows
Anon will eat the date.
I, in the sadness of my heart,
Thought I would travel through the State;
But those who understood me not
Called me the master insubordinate!
"'Tis those are right," said they;
"And thou, what wouldst thou say?"
And so my heart still grieveth;
Yet none the cause perceiveth,
Not one the cause perceiveth; —
And why? — their thoughts are far away.