Thou hath captured mine heart with the tenderest of songs;

Through toil, through fire, through agony, I have cross’d,

To see thy smile upon my suit and wrongs.

Without thy love I wander through life lost,

Like a sparrow who hath their nest mislaid,

Like a rose that hath not been bloomed;

I feel as if thy hath put on a facade,

With no feeling, with no cure to this wicked wound,

And only if thou givest thy heart to me

And sing thy sweet melodies for myself alone,

Then thou shalt drag me out of the black sea

Of hellish wonders and dreams to sit by thy throne.

I shall hunt thee as if the art a hart,

Who hath ripped my soul and my sense apart.