1. If his cheek's pallor did not shine so bright,
No lover's plight would e'er come plain in sight,

2. My sallow hue betrayeth my despair
At severance, which his ruddy cheeks declare.

3. Amazed am I that cheek should unite
Opposites, water and consuming light:

4. Slain am I by his eye's resistless blade,
My slayer, and his due revenge gainsayed.

5. Who dares that moon's just vengeance undertake,
When smiles have tempted sleep his eyes to break?

6. The sot wakes not, how shall wake the wight
Whose draft the cup still druggeth with delight?

7. Strange is his rod, who when it rageth most,
In flooding fire throbs glowing fever-glows!