Op. 26, no. 1
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Alert to all the shadows in the dark,
The principalities that cruelly take
And plunder everything with beauty's mark.
To play the watchman ever for thy sake,
My love, who fills my soul and all my being,
I watch and gladly wait, though still opaque
The future is, resistant to my seeing.
But when the dawn at last will show its face,
Would all our hopes then happily conclude
That all we feared could not have stood in place
Before the force that leaves all things subdued.
That force is love that cultivated grows,
Which gives and gives until it overflows.