Service

I LOVE you so entirely I cannot think to please you, My art is wasted. You are burnt with madness. My being burns to ease you. In dreams of utter service, Is all sweetness tasted.

I love you so entirely, I want you not to praise me! I would be low in all esteem! I would be outcast with one thing to raise me, The hope of service I have gathered in a dream.

Let us go to the mountains, O my Lover! And make our habitation near the sky; In clear, cool air we can discover A plan of perfect living, you and I.