Excerpt from Hymns of the Eastern Church: Translated, With Notes and an Introduction
Sion's lyre, thou best content
That e'er Heav'n to mortals lent,
Though they as a trifle leave thee,
Whose dull thoughts cannot conceive thee,
Though to them thou be a scorn
Who to nought but earth are born,
May my life no longer be
Than I am in love with thee!
Wither.
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