O JOY of creation To be! O rapture to fly And be free! Be the battle lost or won, Though its smoke shall hide the sun, I shall find my love, -- the one Born for me! I shall know him where he stands, All alone, With the power in his hands Not o'erthrown; I shall know him by his hands By his godlike front and grace; I shall hold him for a space, All my own! It is he -- O my love! So bold! It is I -- all thy love Foretold! It is I. O love! what bliss! Dost thou answer to my kiss? O sweetheart! what is this Lieth there so cold? |