And on her lover’s arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old.
I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die Till the sun grows cold, And the stars are old. And the leaves of the Judgement Book unfold!
And my heart springs up anew, Bright and confident and true, And the old loves comes to meet me in the dawning and the dew.
The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies, With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one; Yet the light of a whole life dies, When love is done.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!
What is life, when wanting love? Night without a morning; Love’s the cloudless summer sun, Nature gay adorning.
Wine come in at the mouth And love comes in at the eye; That’s all we shall know for truth Before we grow old and die.
Love is the idler’s occupation, the warrior’s relaxation, and the sovereign’s ruination.
The heart of a man to the heart of a maid – Light of my tents, be fleet – Morning awaits at the end of the world, And the world is all at our feet.
Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above: For love is heaven, and heaven is love.