I refuse to let me cry
And with melancholy sigh,
Have given up the try
A thought deserving spurn
To think love you would return.
As the dusk must watch the sun
Slip away and then be gone
So I’ve seen you act untrue
Would I do the same to you?
I know with certainty
Yes, I know you’re not for me.

Gazing out at the moor
With its grim landscape obscure
Yet the heather flower grows fine,
But in no garden of mine.
Perhaps! my clouds of gray
Have these flowers chased away,
Yet I pray – Yet I pray!
But why! Do I not find
Heather flowers in my sight?
But why! Do I not know
You as him whose love will hold?
Can I know with certainty,
If you are or not for me?