Oh you are coming, coming, coming,
How will hungry Time put by the hours till then?—
But why does it anger my heart to long so
For one man out of the world of men?
Oh I would live in myself only
And build my life lightly and still as a dream—
Are not my thoughts clearer than your thoughts
And colored like stones in a running stream?
Now the slow moon brightens in heaven,
The stars are ready, the night is here—
Oh why must I lose myself to love you,
My dear?