180. Her Indifference Compels Him to Endure a Living Death -
HER INDIFFERENCE COMPELS HIM TO ENDURE A LIVING DEATH
The livelong day, the restless livelong dark
Marks my dull flood of tears; ah, doubly pour,
Impartial and imperious saviour,
In that dead hour of slumber's swarthy arc!
With such deep woe, such anguish sharp and stark
Is my heart weighted, wounded more and more
My sleepless eyes, none is so wretched, nor
Is any breast so much the Archer's mark.
Ah God! while lurid dawn on dawn breaks through,
While night steps on the heels of wide-eyed night,
Half of this life, this living death, I view
Wasted away — yet not that, not that quite!
Rather her scorn, contempt so sweet and true
Which sees me burn up — and enjoys the sight!
The livelong day, the restless livelong dark
Marks my dull flood of tears; ah, doubly pour,
Impartial and imperious saviour,
In that dead hour of slumber's swarthy arc!
With such deep woe, such anguish sharp and stark
Is my heart weighted, wounded more and more
My sleepless eyes, none is so wretched, nor
Is any breast so much the Archer's mark.
Ah God! while lurid dawn on dawn breaks through,
While night steps on the heels of wide-eyed night,
Half of this life, this living death, I view
Wasted away — yet not that, not that quite!
Rather her scorn, contempt so sweet and true
Which sees me burn up — and enjoys the sight!
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