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For had I power to summon,
With harp divine, with harp divine,
The angel or the woman,
The last were mine, the last were mine.

If earth-born beauty’s fingers
Awaked the lay, awaked the lay,
Whose echoed music lingers
Around my way, around my way,
Where smiles the hearth she blesses
With voice and eye, with voice and eye?
Where binds the night her tresses,
When sleep is nigh, when sleep is nigh!
Is Fashion’s bleak cold mountain
Her bosom’s throne, her bosom’s throne?
Or love’s green vale and fountain,
With one alone, with one alone?

Why ask! why seek a treasure
Like her I sing, like her I sing?
Her name nor pain nor pleasure
To me should bring, to me should bring.
Love must not grieve or gladden
My thoughts of snow, my thoughts of snow,
Nor woman soothe or sadden
My path below, my path below.
Before a worldlier altar
I’ve knelt too long, I’ve knelt too long;
And if my footsteps falter,
’Tis but in song, ’tis but in song.