To offer before thy throne?
For I know of no joyous thing
That is not already thine own.
Youth and beauty and love,
Desirest thou more than these?
Lo, from the skies above
And from far away mystical seas,
All things radiant and rare,
All things tender and sweet,
Hasten, O Princess Fair,
To fall in delight at thy feet.
So, Princess, what shall I bring,
When low I bend at thy throne?
"My heart for an offering,"
E'en that has been long thine own.
