Did I abuse her Or show her disdain? Why does she run from me? If I should lose her, How shall I regain The heart she has won from me?
Agony! Beyond power of speech, When the one thing you want Is the only thing out of your reach.
High in her tower, She sits by the hour, Maintaining her hair. Blithe and becoming and frequently humming A lighthearted air: Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-
Agony! Far more painful than yours, When you know she would go with you If there only were doors.
Agony! Oh, the torture they teach! What's as intriguing- Or half so fatiguing- As what's out of reach?
Am I not sensitive, Clever, Well-mannered, Considerate, Passionate, Charming, As kind as I'm handsome And heir to a throne?
You are everything maidens could wish for!
Then why no-?
Do I know?
The girl must be mad!
You know nothing of madness Till you're climbing her hair And you see her up there AS you're nearing her, All the while hearing her: Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-
Agony! Misery! Woe! Though it's different for each. Always ten steps behind- Always ten feet below- And she's just out of reach. Agony That can cut like a knife!