Latter-Day Psalms/My Cup Runneth Over
MY CUP RUNNETH OVER
Thou hast set me in the midst of beauty. What am I that I should be singled out for joy?
The trees clothe themselves in the green colour of spring; their branches are filled with the song of many birds.
By day the glory of the sun flows in my veins, filling me with content. By night the stars call out my spirit in worship, and I am lost among them.
In the setting of the sun and in men’s works I see beauty; in the storm and in the thrust of a spade.
Thou hast made me to take delight in music, whereby my spirit ascends I know not whither.
Thou hast made me to take delight in the thoughts of the great, the heritage of the generations.
Thou hast made me to take delight in men and women, and to seek the keys of their hearts.
Thou hast made me to love. Surely she is thy daughter whose home is my heart, for she is like to thee.
Wherefore hast thou blessed me thus beyond measure? What am I that I should be singled out for joy?
I have no merit beyond my brother. Have I stolen my brother’s blessing?
He has no respite from labouring all the day long, and the fruit of his labour he shall not use.
The fruit of his labour is my beatitude. Because of him I have leisure to seek beauty.
His eyes are blinded with toil. He is cursed because of me.
Why dost thou not destroy me in anger? Hast thou no vengeance terrible enough for me?
Dost thou lie in wait for me till the cup of joy be full; to dash it from me?
Rather thou hast poisoned it with shame and self-despising. I drink to my soul's death.
Shall I renounce beauty? Shall I blind myself that I may be as my brother
Shall I withdraw me from pollution for my own soul's sake, and deny myself selfishly?
Oh, rather let me bow the head humbly before my brother, and say, "I am thy servant, who would help thee to beauty.
Because of thy toil I have known beauty. I will not rest until thou know her also."
The trees clothe themselves in the green colour of spring; their branches are filled with the song of many birds.
By day the glory of the sun flows in my veins, filling me with content. By night the stars call out my spirit in worship, and I am lost among them.
In the setting of the sun and in men’s works I see beauty; in the storm and in the thrust of a spade.
Thou hast made me to take delight in music, whereby my spirit ascends I know not whither.
Thou hast made me to take delight in the thoughts of the great, the heritage of the generations.
Thou hast made me to take delight in men and women, and to seek the keys of their hearts.
Thou hast made me to love. Surely she is thy daughter whose home is my heart, for she is like to thee.
Wherefore hast thou blessed me thus beyond measure? What am I that I should be singled out for joy?
I have no merit beyond my brother. Have I stolen my brother’s blessing?
He has no respite from labouring all the day long, and the fruit of his labour he shall not use.
The fruit of his labour is my beatitude. Because of him I have leisure to seek beauty.
His eyes are blinded with toil. He is cursed because of me.
Why dost thou not destroy me in anger? Hast thou no vengeance terrible enough for me?
Dost thou lie in wait for me till the cup of joy be full; to dash it from me?
Rather thou hast poisoned it with shame and self-despising. I drink to my soul's death.
Shall I renounce beauty? Shall I blind myself that I may be as my brother
Shall I withdraw me from pollution for my own soul's sake, and deny myself selfishly?
Oh, rather let me bow the head humbly before my brother, and say, "I am thy servant, who would help thee to beauty.
Because of thy toil I have known beauty. I will not rest until thou know her also."