My heart is cold with sorrow,
Tho' sunlight decks my brow.
Ye do not know I borrow
That faint smile even now, even now.

Ye do not know mine eyelids
Are used to bitter tears;
are used to bitter tears,
Ye cannot dream this bosom
E'er throbs with trembling fears
e'er throbs with trembling fears
trembling fears.

Ye hear my light laugh ringing,
Ye see my glance of pride,
But, ah ye do not reck the while
What sobs Hope what tears,
what tears they hide.

Decay may rust the falchion's blade,
Tho' diamonds grace its sheath,
And fires encrown old Etna's head,
and fires encrown old Etna's head,
While snows while snows snows are piled beneath
are piled beneath, beneath.

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