Well, my king, in silence sad
   trip we after what we read
   We the globe can compass soon
   swifter than the wandering moon
   I look to like,
   if looking liking prays
   I gather thorns,
   seek nights to happy days
   On life's vast ocean do we sail
   I pity myself, cause passion is the gale
   Tears augmenting the fresh morning-dew
   I know my grievance or be much denied
   Mistempered sorrow, fear me not !
   You dreamt a dream tonight and so did I
   And since You wove dreams of joy and fear
   which made me terrible and dear
   But I arose and saw the dawn
   when light rode high and dew was gone