Lady! wail not in solitude,
feel not despise of thy self,
Solace will not come to you in this way.
...
Oh! white powder sprinkles
From heavenly hand above
To the bleak land below.
No haste like hailstorm
...
To Solitude Lady
Lady! wail not in solitude,
feel not despise of thy self,
Solace will not come to you in this way.
I will come to thy company
Though i have naught to spare
For i am hapless lad.
But let me give thou words of inspiration,
Let me wipe thy lonely tears,
For this are my sole gift for thou.