My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.

Down the hill I went, and then, I forgot the ways of men, For night-scents, heady and damp and cool Wakened ecstasy

Take love when love is given.

For I shall learn from flower and leaf, That color every drop they hold, To change the lifeless wine of grief To living gold.

It is enough for me by day To walk the same bright earth with him; Enough that over us by night The same great roof of stars is dim. I do not hope to bind the wind Or set a fetter on the sea -- It is enough to feel his love Blow by like music over me.

Of my own spirit let me be in sole though feeble mastery.

Old love, old love, / How can I be true? / Shall I be faithless to myself / Or to you?