1. The night's sorrows shone with your dawn,
And the joy of union cried at its separation.

2. So take pleasure in bliss - for misery, though
It chafe, is under your control.

3. If my body were laden with all its pains,
I would still profit from its reward.

4. For fortune but serves you, running
Between the pull of your words and their restraint.

5. Time, though cruel, is your slave - so forgive it,
And reward it for its beautiful design.

6. The sickness that struck you is but
A fire whose embers your forbearance has banked.

7. So perfume the ode, O Keeper of the Faith,
With your graceful acceptance, not crude rejection.