There are silence and gloom, where was glad freedom once, 1
When each thought found an instant and fearless response ; 2
No more are my thoughts, and my dreams fair and free, 3
And I own that the change is in me—not in thee !4
Thou art just as thou wert in thy looks and thy words, 5
But my soul seems all withered—my heart hath crushed chords; 6
Thou art rare and resplendent in beauty to see7
And I feel that the change is in me—not in thee !8
My heart is all mournful, but faithful and true, 9
In sorrow as fervent, with love ever new; 10
Though in fate it is fettered, in feeling ’tis free, 11
Ah! methinks that the change is in thee, not in me !12