Who is she who dwells in my heart, the woman forlorn for ever?  
I wooed her and I failed to win her. I decked her with wreaths and sang in her praise.
 
A smile shone in her face for a moment, then it faded.
 
“I have no joy in thee,” she cried, the woman in sorrow.
 
I bought her jewelled anklets and fanned her with a fan gem-studded; I made her a bed on a bedstead of gold.
 
There a gleam of gladness in her eyes, then it died.
 
“I have no joy in these,” she cried, the woman in sorrow.
 
I sea............