Did I abuse her
Or show her disdain?
Why does she run from me?
If I should lose her,
How shall I regain
The heart she has won from me?
Agony!
Beyond power of speech,
When the one thing you want
Is the only thing out of your reach.
High in her tower,
She sits by the hour,
Maintaining her hair.
Blithe and becoming and frequently humming
A lighthearted air:
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-
Agony!
Far more painful than yours,
When you know she would go with you
If there only were doors.
Agony!
Oh, the torture they teach!
What's as intriguing-
Or half so fatiguing-
As what's out of reach?
Am I not sensitive,
Clever,
Well-mannered,
Considerate,
Passionate,
Charming,
As kind as I'm handsome
And heir to a throne?
You are everything maidens could wish for!
Then why no-?
Do I know?
The girl must be mad!
You know nothing of madness
Till you're climbing her hair
And you see her up there
AS you're nearing her,
All the while hearing her:
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-
Agony!
Misery!
Woe!
Though it's different for each.
Always ten steps behind-
Always ten feet below-
And she's just out of reach.
Agony
That can cut like a knife!
I must have her to wife.