My heart is warmer surely than the bosom of the main.
Oh joy! O bliss of blisses!
My heart of hearts art thou.
Come bathe me with thy kisses,
My eyelids and my brow.
Hark how the wild rain hisses,
And the loud sea roars below.
Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs
So gladly doth it stir;
Thine eye in drops of gladness swims.