A little fame is mine, a little joy,
A hope for things to come from God on high,
A gratitude for every pretty toy,
A patience when the plaything is put by, —
And yet I have not anything, it seems,
Except thy love and all thy lover's dreams.

Thy love alone makes straight the crooked way,
Thy love alone lends courage for the strife,
Thy love it is that floods my night with day
And lifts my eyes to Splendor and to Life, —
Until love came I wondered and was sad,
But now I only know that I am glad!