I bade my Lady think what she might mean.

Know I my meaning, I? Can I love one,

And yet be jealous of another? None

Commits such folly. Terrible Love, I ween,

Has might, even dead, half sighing to upheave

The lightless seas of selfishness amain:

Seas that in a man's heart have no rain

To fall and still them. Peace can I achieve,

(Editor：art)