Wonder much have I,
o'er where I've gone awry:
seeing only pain
in my beginner's eye.

Wonder much have I,
how such outlooks still pry
and infest upon this
deseased and aching mind.

Floundring and pounding,
my heart no more alive.
With chains of gold she took me,
the slave of distress became I.

Pray thee,
be still lost heart
-lest I give will
to an ailing part.

Quiet, roving and racing
brain,
be still as well,
and keep your owner sane.

Floundering and pounding,
will my heart no longer stay!
No sounding, no drowning
in my own ceaseless dismay.

Wonder much have I-
o'er where I'd gone arwy-
seeing only pain
in my beginner's eye.

Wonder n'er have I
at a creature now so spry.
Within her now no harm,
nor painful self despize.