David Vedder

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AIR--"Gramachree."

There is a pang for every heart,
  A tear for every eye;
There is a knell for every ear,
  For every breast a sigh.
There 's anguish in the happiest state,
  Humanity can prove;
But oh! the torture of the soul
  Is unrequited love!

The reptile haunts the sweetest bower,
  The rose blooms on the thorn;
There 's poison in the fairest flower
  That greets the opening morn.
The hemlock and the night-shade spring
  In garden and in grove;
But oh! the upas of the soul
  Is unrequited love!

Ah! lady, thine inconstancy
  Hath made my peace depart;
The unwonted coldness of thine eye
  Hath froze thy lover's heart.
Yet with the fibres of that heart
  Thine image dear is wove;
Nor can they sever till I die
  Of unrequited love!