Alas, poor wretch of furrowed brow
And shoulder hunched from birth
For me, naught but the dream
Of love’s sweet embrace
The lady’s gentle touch
Her kiss upon this twisted visage

A prisoner, I, of ugliness
That none should look upon this face
Oh, ye lords of man’s creation
Why hast thou chosen this sad soul
To bear the brunt of human shunning
Of eyes averted at my sight

For me no joy of human love
Nay, nor the companionship of kind
A life alone, in bleakness must I bear
To dwell in windowless oblivion
Until set free my spirit soars aloft
And beauty I possess within shall shine
For all the world to see