You ask me these two questions, dear:
What is the purest gift
That erst survived the fall?
And how that I should choose to die,
If I must die at all?
I’ll answer thee: I know no purer gift than Love;
No greater bliss than just to dwell
Close held in Love’s own clasp;
And glancing oft into the lovelight of thine eye;
Thus drifting from this earthly shore
See thee only, until I reached that land
Where love is love forever more.