Love, merry are you as a midsummer flower
    And blithe as a lark upon the camphor’s tower
Singing free by every hour
    Which passes in dream, on and through

Most graceful are you as a lithe falcon, flying
    Or a gentle hawk by the spinning wind, crying
Or wooing tone, slowly dying
    In pain’s midst for the song are you

And not austere as the cruel mistress of ice
    And most warm and most crisp as the midsummer skies
Free as the wind by morn that flies
    To carry scent of lilac and dew

As gorgeous are you as a bright dream of sweet love
    And as gracious as the Eye of G-d, high above
Ne’er in my life, I can’t hurt enough
    To have me loved as I love you