What if my face is black? See how the night
Of like hue is, in which Love takes delight.
The traveller is ever burnt of face,
And she who woos thee, runs a weary race.
The blackest soil bears many a fruitful tree; 5
But close thine eyes, and all is black to thee.
Ope them again, and see thy shadow there
To be thy shadow is mine only prayer.
And if my face with smoke or soot is drest,
What flames have longtime lurked within my breast? 10
Dost spurn me, cruel one? All hope must fade
The future well they saw, the Fates who made
My gloomy cheeks to be of sorrow's shade!