Chapter III

The Unhappy Lover. By the same author^[67-4].

O lovely maiden, thou hast drawn my heart
To thee, as though by some magician's art,
Yet though my love is like a glowing flame,
Thy coldness brings me but to scorn and shame.
Mind, if I perish through thy chill disdain,
The folks will say, “Here's one by woman slain^[67-5].”