O Love, sweet queen! my heart is thine! My Life I clasp within mine arms! My fondest charmer, queen divine! My soul surrenders to thy charms, In bliss would fly away.
No dearer joy than this I want; If love is banished from that life There bodyless, my soul would pant, And pine away in hopeless grief, If love be fled away.
If Love should hide and fold her wings In bowers of yonder gleaming skies, Unmeaning then each bard oft sings Of bliss that lives on earth and dies,-- I want such love as this.
I want thy form, thy loving breast, Mine arms of love surrounding thee, And on thy bosom sweetly rest, Or else that world were dead to me. No other life is bliss.
If it is thus, my queen, I go With joy to yonder blissful clime; But if not so, then let me flow To soil and streams through changing time, To me would be more bliss.
For then, in blooming flowerets, I Could earth adorn, my soul delight, And never thus on earth could die; For though I should be hid from sight, Would spring again with joy!
And sing as some sweet warbling bird, Or in the breezes wave as grain, As yellow sun-birds there have whirred On earth, could I thus live again, That beauteous world enjoy!
'Mid safflower-fields or waving cane, Or in the honeysuckles lie, In forms of life would breathe again, Enjoy Earth's sweetest revelry, And ever spring again!
Each life to me new joys would bring, In breast of beast or bird or flower, In each new form new joys would spring, And happy, ever, Love would soar! Triumphant filled with joy!
In jujube or tamarisk Perhaps would come to life again, Or in the form of fawns would frisk 'Mid violets upon the plain; But I should live again!
And throb beneath the glistening dew, In bamboo tufts, or mango-trees, In lotus bloom, and spring anew, In rose-tree bud, or such as these On Earth return again!
And I should learn to love my mate, In beast or singing bird or flower, For kiss of love in hope could wait; Perhaps I then would come that hour, In form I have again!
And love you say, my queen, is there, Where I can breathe with life anew? But is it so? My Love, beware! For some things oft are false, some true, But I thee trust again!
We fly away! from gates away! Oh, life of bliss! Oh, breath of balm! With wings we tread the Silver Way, To trailing vines and feathery palm, To bower of love again."