1 Ay, gaze upon her rose-wreath'd hair, 
2 And gaze upon her smile;
3 Seem as you drank the very air
4 Her breath perfumed the while; 

5 And wake for her the gifted line,
6 That wild and witching lay,
7 And swear your heart is as a shrine,
8 That only holds her sway. 

9 'Tis well: I am revenged at last;--
10 Mark you that scornful cheek,--
11 The eye averted as you pass'd,
12 Spoke more than words could speak. 

13 Ay, now by all the bitter tears
14 That I have shed for thee,--
15 The racking doubts, the burning fears,--
16 Avenged they well may be-- 

17 By the nights pass'd in sleepless care,
18 The days of endless woe;
19 All that you taught my heart to bear,
20 All that yourself will know. 

21 I would not wish to see you laid
22 Within an early tomb;
23 I should forget how you betray'd,
24 And only weep your doom: 

25 But this is fitting punishment,
26 To live and love in vain,--
27 O my wrung heart, be thou content,
28 And feed upon his pain. 

29 Go thou and watch her lightest sigh,--
30 Thine own it will not be;
31 And bask beneath her sunny eye,--
32 It will not turn on thee. 

33 'Tis well: the rack, the chain, the wheel,
34 Far better hadst thou proved;
35 Ev'n I could almost pity feel,
36 For thou art nor beloved.