If thou be well I know the skies are fair;
If not, they press me down with leaden weight,
And all is dark; and morning comes too late;
And all the birds are tuneless in the air.
V.
I need but thee: thee only. Thou alone
Art all my joy: a something to the sight
As grand as Silence, and as snowy white.
And do thou pardon if I make it known,
As oft I do, with mine Amati's tone,