If it be thy will to gain
The safe shore of Passion’s main,
With a thousand brands of fire
One faint flame is thy desire.

God has taught me how to spring
Joyously upon the wing;
Thou aspirest but to rest
Cowering in thy meadow’s nest.

Seekest thou to win perchance
The Beloved’s secret glance?
First awhile be clutching then
So the skirts of conscient men.

With no madness in thy breast
Through the town thou clamourest;
Pitcher shattered from thy grip,
Thou wouldst yet the revel keep.

Practice too the amorous art,
Learn to captivate the heart,
If thou dost desire of me
Love’s immortal minstrelsy.