The lost empire of my heart.
Thou, my love, art sovereign there!
There thou hast a living shrine:
Let my portion be despair,
If the light of bliss be thine.
Loved by thee, oh, might I live,
’Neath the darkest, stormiest sky:
’Twere a blest alternative!
Grief is joy, if thou be nigh.
Every wish and every pray’r