The plagues of life are naught to me; life's only joy is this--
To see thee and to hear thee and to blush beneath thy kiss!
Alas! perchance this evening or to-morrow morn, may be,
The lords who hold me here a slave in sad captivity,
May, since they think me wanton, their treacherous measures take
That I should be a Christian and my former faith forsake.
But I tell them, and I weep to tell, that I will ne'er forego
The creed my fathers fought for in centuries long ago!
And yet I might forswear it, but that that creed divine
'Tis vain I struggle to deny, for, ah, that creed is thine!"