1. Sick with love-sick eyes,
Laughing with ardor so wise,

2. From his pocket he drew
A candle that day outgrew.

3. His gown billowing free
O'er a dune by the sea,

4. A thirst he can't cut
With wishing or gut.

5. A man, yet the mold
Of a genie of old,

6. In all times conferred
Bliss I never could word.

7. His hands hold command
Like mine o'er my hand,

8. No patience we share
Day and night in our care.