Of sweet sleep lost
4658In her estrangement,
4658

She goes unaware.
4658Would she could see,
4658

If she would, this state
4658Of love and pain,

would
4658She would pity me.
4658

Within my inmost tortures,
4658

The world discerns her form. 

Yet, in my unwavering gaze, 

She stays and stays engraved.