1. What blame is mine, what fault have I,
That they prolong in talk, and range in liberty?

2. In love of her whose beauty chained mine eye,
How should reproach make head against my flame,

3. When longing in my heart is fed the same,
A streaming torrent that may not run dry?

4. They chide in vain; love's sovranty I claim;
For me the bitter is made sweet thereby,

5. Since my desire is still my mistress' name.
O comrades mine, the grip my heart is in

6. Between desire, and longing to possess,
For that slim, swaying shape, that brightness rare,

7. Is fire unquenched, is furnace fiery gin.
The lover's woes are traced in happiness;

8. Time spoiled of frowns, by smiles made debonair,
Has power no more his own abode to win,

9. Where day and night alternate in their stress.
You blamed me, when my love began to grow;

10. But for myself, nor misery nor bliss,
Sickness or health, or death or life have I

11. Known other cause than this same lordly foe.
Lo, from her face the morning lights arise,

12. And in her hair the night its darkness stows.
I am her offering; at her feet I lie,

13. To me the world is daily paradise.
My body by the wasting sickness cleft

14. That fed upon me, of my strength bereft,
Was clad by her in habiliments new-made.

15. What if her eye with inequality
Measured my merit, and threw light on me

16. Only by fits, while radiance she arrayed
On others always, - oft the moon will be

17. Hid by a cloud, when in the sky arrayed,
But soon shines out again in brilliancy.

18. Bowed is that slender stem beneath her burden white.
Fed by her moisture grows that ripening fruit;

19. But I have only longing in my breast,
No gifts have I to offer, good or bright.

20. That cheek outblooms the red flame of the light;
Speech from that mouth is sweeter honey-sweet.

21. Under her mantle bides she, shrouded quite,
Safe from all eyes, and I am dispossest

22. Even of hope, unhappy that I am, and blest.
No sin it were if I should kiss her mouth,

23. Sweeter than syrup that sweet mouth of hers,
The lips like pomegranates with their crimson smiles.

24. Her spittle healed me as a healing draught,
When from her fair face, shadowed by its flowers,

25. She turned on me the lightning of her eyes.
Low at her feet my life in ruins brought,

26. Fed by her bounty's overflowing showers,
She made me slave of all, once freeman of the crowds.

27. God grant her days may never know eclipse;
That she be tended well, and richly thrive,

28. And ever grow in greatness and renown.
The phantom came to me unto her likeness,

29. Called me by name and left with me its kiss.
Then happiness itself returned to stay:

30. Thin things win bulk by fancy's alchemies.
The wind of East, what bounty does it bring

31. From a beloved's land, itself made sweet thereby!
To her my praise prolonged shall chant its song;

32. My plain, my verse, of her shall always tell.
Lord of the sure seat, of high magnificence,

33. Let it reach thee and thy noble pride prolong,
That thou may'st guerdon me: thy benefits

34. Have raised me to a fervid eminence.
The bounty of this king all kings above

35. Claimed glory, building up a tower sublime
That brought him near to heaven's high eminence.

36. Thence over earth his glances dominate;
The stars themseves look up to him elate,

37. And guide him on to glorious ascendance.
The hands of noble souls were open ever,

38. And gifts unceasing flowed like streaming rain,
Poured out to all men with unsparing hand.

39. A lion, fierce, impetuous in the attack,
Yet gentlest friend, serenest to direct.

40. In glory's mansion long he held the throne;
By him the mighty of old days were matched,

41. And over every height he soared erect.
He rode the earthquake, mastering its shock.

42. He broke the maces of the lion-heart;
The roaring of the winds was hushed in death.

43. Loud rose the weeping for his dire attacks;
Men's souls were shivered on destruction's rack,

44. And groans burst from the tortured breast of earth.
Thou mountain mass, majestically bright,

45. Sea of grandeur, rich in myriad waves,
Moon in expansive full perfection seen,—

46. Be thou my refuge in this trouble's night,
My morning-draught while gleam thy beacon-fires.

47. The pouring of the rain makes loud the plain,
Then why should bounty's rain not fall from thee?

48. Yea, let thy giving follow quick on vow;
Darling of fortune, let me live beloved,

49. On gifts from thy true hand my being depending.
And leave me not amid the rabble drove,

50. Cast the small coin of base alloy unmoved:
Far from the noble soul be such an ending.

51. Nay, be thou still my garden and my spring,
My morning draught, and comfort of my soul.

52. While the night passes, and the rainy spheres,
Changeless, unchanging, rest thy glory's goal,

53. Thy splendor's home too high for fortune's reach,
Nor years avail that steadfastness to bring.