Classic Poem

I love you so entirely
I cannot think to please you,
My art is wasted.
You are burnt with madness,
My being burns to ease you.
In dreams of utter service,
Is all sweetness tasted.

I love you so entirely,
I want you not to praise me!
I would be low in all esteem!
I would be outcast with one thing to raise me,
The hope of service I have gathered in a dream.

Let us go to the mountains, O my Lover!
And make our habitation near the sky;
In clear, cool air we can discover
A plan of perfect living, you and I.