O is it Love or is it Fame, This thing for which I sigh?
Or has it then no earthly name For men to call it by?
I know not what can ease my pains, Nor what it is I wish;
The passion at my heart-strings strains Like a tiger in a leash.
O is it Love or is it Fame, This thing for which I sigh?
Or has it then no earthly name For men to call it by?
I know not what can ease my pains, Nor what it is I wish;
The passion at my heart-strings strains Like a tiger in a leash.