Chapter VII

And even if you loved me not,
If you but knew the pain I feel
When you but breathe a word that's harsh,
When you betray the faintest frown;
And when you mock me for my love,
Or chide me for the least caress,
If you but knew the pain I feel.

Aye, even if you loved me not,
You ne'er would frown at me or mock
My love for you, or harshly speak,
Or bid me not to kiss your hand;
Instead you'd treat me as a child,
You'd treat me as a child that's sick,
And patiently you would submit
To my caress; you would allow
My feverish hands to stroke your hair,
My quivering lips to kiss your brow,
My famished eyes to feast on you,
And my delirious heart to spin:
To spin a spider's web of love,
To make your heart its captive fly.

Aye, even if you loved me not,
If you but knew the pain I feel,
Whene'er I think you love me not,
You'd treat me as a little child;
You'd tell me love's sweet fairy tale,
I will believe love's fairy tale.
Please tell me love's sweet fairy tale,
Aye, even if you love me not.