Burnt out is now my misery-- br love's yearning br No more unspeakably torments my heart, br Yet bearable alone through thee, my being-- br All thou art not is idle, stale and dying, br Colourless, withered, dead,--save where thou art! br br If I no more through false suspicion trouble br Thy happiness,--nor more my blood inflames my veins, br It is not turned to ice 'neath snowy cover, br But free from jealousy, to thee thy lover br Always with soul of ardour true remains.