I br br I have risen again, br And awhile survey br By my chilly ray br Through your window-pane br Your upturned face, br As you think, 'Ah - she br Now dreams of me br In her distant place!' br br II br br I pierce her blind br In her far-off home: br She fixes a comb, br And says in her mind, br 'I start in an hour; br Whom shall I meet? br Won't the men be sweet, br And the women sour!'br br Thomas Hardybr br