Oh, let the night speak of me

Oh, let night speak of me, for day

Knows not how breaks with woe my heart;

Day knows not how I mournful stray,

Weeping for thee, so dear thou art.

The sad night weeps with me, and lays

Her tear-wet cheek against my own;

Although I walk in sun-lit ways,

Still doth my heart in darkness moan.

The night shall speak of me, and say

All things to thee I dare not show;

And to thy dreams my love display,

Till thou art melted by my woe!