Then let no longer blinding Vanity
Her sightless visions make me sightless cry
When people overlook my poetry
Or hide it from the whetted public eye.
Affixed she to my eyes this future glassed:
Two separate ends fill each a crystal lens,
In one my sadness, in one joy forecast,
And happiness on gaining fame depends.
Come now and whisper what she cannot see:
That I shall always be a happy man
As long as our love burns inside of me,
Love blessed by God according to His plan.
If, my love, you make these words ring true
Then I shall know my happiness is you.