Stand face to face, friend...
and unveil the grace in thine eyes,
All care let buffetting winds bear away;
For in the golden house of the singer
the voice of lamentation may not be.

Then come, O lyre divine,
for me thine echoes awaken,
So all night long,
when sleep holds the eyes of the weary,
Before the feet of Love
may I set my tireless singing.

Ah! delicate Love,
More precious than gold,
Sweeter than honey,
Softer than rose-leaves,
Beautiful Love!

Thou hast the sun's glory and splendour,
Hungry time can never devour thee:
Thou burnest us, thou bitter sweet,
with a swift, with a subtle fire -

We are broken by longing
At soft Aphrodite's will,
Let us drain a thousand cups of Love,
O my sweet, O my tender one.

Ah! a hue as honey pale o'erspreads thy cheek,
Pale are thy lips and thy beautiful eyelids,
As stars fade, when the lovely moon
Lights up all earth with silver,
So there is none other whereunto I may liken thee.