Oh, How Hard It Is

On Linden, When The Sun Was Low, All Bloodless Lay The Untrodden Snow, And Dark As Winter Was The Flow Of Iser, Rolling Rapidly.

Oh, How Hard It Is To Find The One Just Suited To Our Mind!

Tis Distance Lends Enchantment To The View, And Robes The Mountain In Its Azure Hue.

One Moment May With Bliss Repay Unnumbered Hours Of Pain.

Without The Smile From Partial Beauty Won, O What Were Man? - A World Without A Sun.