Let all things vanish, if but you remain; For if you stay, beloved, what is gone? Yet, should you go, all permanence is vain, And all the piled abundance is as none.
With you beside me in the desert sand, Your smile upon me, and on mine your hand, Oases green arise, and camel-bells; For in the long adventure of your eyes Are all the wandering ways to Paradise.
Existence, in your being, comes and goes; What were the garden, love, without the rose? In vain were ears to hear, And eyes in vain, Lacking your ordered music, sphere to sphere, Blind, should your beauty blossom not again.
The pulse that shakes the world with rhythmic beat Is but the passing of your little feet; And all the singing vast of all the seas, Down from the pole To the Hesperides, Is but the praying echo of your soul.
Therefore, beloved, know that this is true-- The world exists and vanishes in you! Tis not a lover's fancy; ask the sky If all its stars depend not, even as I, Upon your eyelids, when they open or close; And let the garden answer with the rose.
When rumour fain would fright my ear With the destruction and decay Of things familiar and dear, And vaunt of a swift-running day That sweeps the fair old Past away; Whatever else be strange and new, All other things may go or stay, So that there be no change in you.
These loud mutations others fear Find me high-fortressed 'gainst dismay, They trouble not the tranquil sphere That hallows with immortal ray The world where love and lovers stray In glittering gardens soft with dew-- O let them break and burn and slay, So that there be no change in you.
Let rapine its republics rear, And murder its red sceptre sway, Their blood-stained riot comes not near The quiet haven where we pray, And work and love and laugh and play; Unchanged, our skies are ever blue, Nothing can change, for all they say,-- So that there be no change in you.
Princess, let wild men brag and bray, The pure, the beautiful, the true. Change not, and changeless we as they-- So that there be no change in you.
You often ask me, love, how much I love you, Bidding my fancy find An answer to your mind; I say: "Past count, as there are stars above you." You shake your head and say, "Many and bright are they, But that is not enough."