Thy heart is gold in autumn morn
My heart is cold from words I've sworn
What woman will for love be torn
To pieces in September morn?

Give me strength and hope, my love
And I shall prove to stars above
My heart, thy heart, is equal, though
My heart thy heart will never know

Oh, was it all a waste of time?
Didst thou open those eyes of thine?
Or dream'd I unprobable dreams to keep
Thee next to me in all my sleep?

Alas! Alas! Leavest thou me
For everything I could not be?
Wast thou but a dream of love?
Wast thou another dead white dove?