For me, they toil to ends unseen, unheard. 

And though I strive to act refined and wise, 

And prove my worth, it is to them absurd 

That I should fear their gaze except in lies. 

For me, they turn the world about and down. 

Our lively, canted host together laughs 

And plays and speaks on thoughts of great renown, 

And too affairs of whim, conceit, and chaff. 

For me, she shows (from inward eye) her care. 

No Psyche must she be, instead just one 

With whom I'd share my quiet time and dare 

To love more than myself. Estate begun, 

I knew my makers, friends, and future flame, 

Yet nothing, not these relationships, nor these lyrics, matter if I do not know my self the same.