—Methinks, 'twere better far,
In place of these vain wanderings through the woods,
Didst thou requite the monkey for her love.
The hours to her are lamentably long,—
She stands beside the window, day by day,
To watch the shapeless clouds, and see them roll
Away, above the old walls of the town.
“Were I a bird!”—thus ever runs her song
Through the long day and the yet longer night:—
A moment cheerful,—but she lapses soon
To sadness, which is lasting: then she weeps
'Till tears refuse to come:—then quiet seems,
But lovesick, not the less.

—Oh, serpent, serpent!