Chapter VIII

The sun is warm and bright,
All nature sings;
The song of love and life is in the air,
The flowing waters and the rolling hills,
The grass we tread upon, the birds that fly,
The humming insects, aye, all men, all beasts,
All things are happy in the sun's caress.

But in my heart, in my unhappy heart,
The icy blast of winter still persists,
And desolation reigns.
Your frown obliterates the sun for me,
And your indifference is worse than death.
And in my heart, in my unhappy heart,
Dire desolation reigns.