I know if those midnights thou hadst not granted
I had not lived through these after days.
And that had been well for me; all would say so,
What have I done since I parted from thee?
But things that are wasted, and full of ruin,
All unworthy, even of me.
Yet, it was to me that the gift was given,
No greater joy have the Gods above,—
That night of nights when my only lover,
Though all reluctant, granted me love.