My life is a bowl which is mine to brim
   With loveliness old and new.
So I fill its clay from stem to rim
   With you, dear heart,
     With you.

My life is a pool which can only hold
   One star and a glimpse of blue.
But the blue and the little lamp of gold
   Are you, dear heart,
     Are you.

My life is a homing bird that flies
   Through the starry dusk and dew
Home to heaven of your true eyes
   Home, dear heart,
     To you.