How would I to fill ye up o’ love!
I’d tear this lute, that it might whirr
A song that soothed thy lone, awearied path.
I’d steal the sun’s pale gold,
And e’en the silvered even’s ray,
To treasure them within this song
That it be rich for thee.
From out the wastes o’ earth I’d seek
And catch the woe-tears shed,
That I might drink them from the cup