Should, through our kisses, enter Life again,
It would inherit all our desolation,
All the soft sorrow of the slanting rain.
When thou desirest Love’s supreme surrender,
Come while the morning revels in the light,
Bulbuls around us, passionately tender,
Singing among the roses red and white.
Thus, if it be my sweet and sacred duty,
Subservient to the Gods’ divine decree,
To give the world again thy vivid beauty,