Thy ruling beauty knows of us—
Who yearn, and scorch upon our souls:
The burden of imperfect world—alas !
Our body fate's—to perish as old moles!

Yet, don't be a slave to wrenching claws,,,,
'Cause fear is feared to cease too soon—ami;
And our debt to ancestors—the law !
Rejoice well—love's sorrows of la vie !  

Thy brilliant light does know of us—
Who willingly beseech Thy Beauty,
With wistful wondering eyes at last !  
See—Thee ! O, Fiery Flames of Duty !  
  
From foreign land to our humble home—
Widespread is void by far—as I may know !
And yearns of hearts—heard in ev'ry dome;
*Subjected Harmony of Spheres to Love !