For Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?
I have no fame, nor to the height of honor
Will my poor name on tireless pinions soar;
Yet Fate has never drawn my hate upon her—
For Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?
I have no station, know no high position,
And never yet the robes of office wore;
Yet I can well afford to scorn ambition—
For Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?
I have no beauty—beauty has forsworn me,