Cease, oh, cease thou foul play
that words sickly and sweet fell
And his hazel eyes, loving like sunrise on a cold day,
Colors that will mislead and mix into gray;
But our lips come together to keep us sane,
Sealing an unknown, maybe in vain

Moan, oh, moan in sorrow
Which thy stone heart cracks a slight,
On to the next stone for hope of tomorrow
It is her duty to mend not borrow;
But first think of him in kind
Lust will one day leave us blind