There pass the careless people 
That call their souls their own: 
Here by the road I loiter, 
How idle and alone. 

Ah, past the plunge of plummet, 
In seas I cannot sound, 
My heart and soul and senses, 
World without end, are drowned. 

His folly has not fellow 
Beneath the blue of day 
That gives to man or woman 
His heart and soul away. 

There flowers no balm to sain him 
From east of earth to west 
That's lost for everlasting 
The heart out of his breast. 

Here by the labouring highway 
With empty hands I stroll: 
Sea-deep, till doomsday morning, 
Lie lost my heart and soul.