The princess has her lovers, 
A score of knights has she, 
And each can sing a madrigal, 
And praise her gracefully.

But Love that is so bitter 
Hath put within her heart 
A longing for the scornful knight 
Who silent stands apart.

And tho' the others praise and plead, 
She maketh no reply, 
Yet for a single word from him, 
I ween that she would die.