For if Love the magical painter is,
He for ever will paint the same for us.
'Tis a light within that illumes the land;
And free as the birds from sorrow or strife,
Very close together, and hand in hand,
We shall walk on through unlimited life.
'Ah, Harry!' I cried, 'I shall lean on you!
'Tis the purest joy to look up so high;
You will teach me all that I ought to do;
On your noble strength can my steps rely.