When I gaze at Thee, darling mine—
Thou art a dove—though sweeter—
Delightful, playful, gentle, tame,
When her mate comes to meet her.

And I can scarcely gaze enough
At Thine eyes and cheeks’ blossom—
Thine eyes are but two dark blue gates
To Thy deep charming bosom.

And I can scarcely gaze enough
At Thy sweet face reflection—
Through it Thy whole heart speaks to me
And soul without deception.

When I gaze at Thee, darling mine—
O manna's sweet dispenser!—
Are not those the same lips, indeed,
That gave me “yes” for answer?