Yet blocks the path of love,
A wall that bars the sweetest kiss,
No blame upon her falls
Nor he who sits and thinks and dreams
And yearns for happiness.
Pressed up against the wall so tight,
His form moulds to the stone
And listens for her softest breath
Or her oncoming step.
So soft he strains and pains to hear.
Too far the maiden stands
Away for even briefest touch.