Old love, old love, / How can I be true? / Shall I be faithless to myself / Or to you?
Take love when love is given.
Oh who can tell the range of joy or set the bounds of beauty?
Down the hill I went, and then, I forgot the ways of men, For night-scents, heady and damp and cool Wakened ecstasy
There is a quiet at the heart of love, And I have pierced the pain and come to peace.
My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.