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I pray that my heart would never fall captive
To the lure of love’s exquisite calling.
In my weakness, its eternal trapping
clings steady with no hope of ransom.
If love returns to me, then I with haste
embrace my keeping. But all I know:
the vile passion of my soul, where with
love I wrestle, by love I am defeated
as one who waits alone in the quiet,
starving for love, but love would not feed me.
Will I be tortured to my death? Lest I
Should live the rest of my life unnourished
And the pangs of hunger return to me each hour?
Will in my weakness love always flourish?
Love’s lie has defeated all of my courage.