Long, long before I saw his face.
III
I jested over-much in days of old,
I looked on sorrow once and did not care,
Now Love hath crowned my head with very gold,
I will be worthy of the joy I wear.
There is not one a-hungered or a-cold
Shall seek my door but that he too shall share
Something of this vast happiness I hold;
I will be worthy of the joy I wear.