What shall I give to her who will not care
If I give soul or roses, will not know
How that, for sweets she'll spend, light smiles she'll sow,
I will reap bitter tears? If she could wear
Those tears as stars to sparkle in her hair!
What shall I give? I have not fall'n so low
I may not lay one gift before I go
Upon the altar of my heart's despair.
She will not know; yet, in my love a king,
I must be worthy of my crown and throne,
And so can sacrifice no little thing.
My life, my soul are worthless since her scorn.
Slay we then love on love's red altar-stone —
Beggared of all, I face the world forlorn.