What madness this that I contrive
that makes me think with just my eyes
that I convict my only bride
of treachery that she may hide?
Inside my heart where it abides
that my imagination ties
a dream of hurt and sickly lies
if it reality defies
Her simple laugh and heavy sighs
that for another man do fly
and them I see as oft’ the sky
then feel my faith begin to die
A devil is this jealousy
that makes me long for honesty.