1. We were so delicate before our being was ripped
I think I'm worshipping you, oh painter

2. But when the sign of night was erased for me I saw
That you are object, deed, and doer

3. The ancient beauty wrote on our cheeks
Lo, all things besides God are vain

4. The universes appeared to us in the eye of their deed
And every bliss is, without fail, fleeting