I see thee here, far off or near at hand,Yet thy disposition, lord, I understand.
Thou tookest me without a care or thought,Nor pitied tears that ceaseless anguish brought.
How oft thou kindled in my heart a fireTill my whole being melted like the pyre.
I conquered sorrow, hid my spirit's groan,The soul's afflictions and its griefs unknown.
How oft I rose above suspicion's track—But for love's sake I pardoned every lack.
How dost thou touch my feeling with a dream?My conscience guards like watchman of esteem.
Had I not been enchanted all by thee,My heart had not overlooked fault's decree.
Dost thou forget I am a shining light,Illuming thy dark terror of the night?
Dost thou forget I am a spirit warm,That gave thee comfort in the damp and storm?
Content with culture's treasure and my art,Nor fled like others from my post apart.
Nor yearned for revelry's deceiving gleam,But lived among the pure in virtue's dream.
I tamed my heart to satisfaction's law,And glory became lamp of folly's flaw.
How much they spoke—provoking was their word—A maiden chaste, of noble lineage heard.
A hunter aimed with confidence and pride,He missed the mark—yet would not turn aside.
They thought that he who won me for his ownWould ride with phantoms, wavering, alone.
Their fancies failed, despite their stern decree—I rose above calamity's degree.
The censors lied with every word they spoke,Their recompense was failure's shameful yoke.
I lit the candles on my wedding eve,Proclaiming thee the husband to believe.
I called companions witness to our bond,Far from delusion's webs that hearts respond.
I trained my heart to nearness and to trust,And shunned a stranger's grasping, greedy lust.
I said: a woman's message is a lightThat guides through time's most arduous, bitter night.
Solitude became my pleasant, chosen home,I made my dwelling sweet where I would roam.
Thy past endeavour was the path I trod,To open ways and every winding road.
I offered proof of loyalty sublime,Rising above the doubter's crooked rhyme.
Why doubt and suspicion's murky tide?My heart is deaf to what would turn aside.
The spirit's clarity lends me a graceThat keeps me youthful though the years embrace.
What fault is mine if I appear to shineWith magic of my youth's exalted line?
I fear for thee from sleepless nights to come,That melt the soul before oblivion.
I seek God's refuge when suspicion grows,For doubts creep forward into life's deep throes.
Lean not toward phantom or imagined fear—How many hearts has doubt destroyed, my dear.
If doubt's fire scorches thy heart's inner core,Return to God and seek what He has store.
Thy Lord shall surely lift from thee the pallOf false imagination's shadowed wall.
And thou shalt live within God's shelter ever,Nor tremble at grief's tainted, bitter river.
Let certainty perfume thy every thought,That thou mayst live unburdened, trouble-naught.
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