If only he is mine--
If but this poor heart
Never more, in grief or joy,
May from him depart,
Then farewell to sadness;
All I feel is love, and hope, and gladness.
If only he is mine,
Then from all below,
Leaning on my pilgrim staff,
Gladly forth I go
From the crowd who follow,
In the broad, bright road, their pleasures false and hollow.
If only he is mine,
Then all else is given;
Every blessing lifts my eyes
And my heart to heaven.
Filled with heavenly love,
Earthly hopes and fears no longer tempt to move.
There, when he is mine,
Is my Fatherland,
And my heritage of bliss
Cometh from his hand.
Now I find again,
In his people, love long lost, and mourned in vain.
--Novalis.