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What charm is there in love for us, My God, and why we love it? The world would all dissolve in it And lives all in love of it.

The little cloud sails through the sky As though love’s message drove it; The little bird that sleeps in twigs Is dreaming only of it.

And here, too, on the earth the man, While death his head does covet, He weeps, rejoices, longs and lives And dies for the sake of it.

Indeed, the heaven’s angel choir With their harps’ music prove it-- What would they sing, if not allowed To play and to sing of it!