If life were but a dream, my Love,
  And death the waking time;
If day had not a beam, my Love,
  And night had not a rhyme, -- 
    A barren, barren world were this
    Without one saving gleam;
    I 'd only ask that with a kiss
    You'd wake me from the dream.

If dreaming were the sum of days,
  And loving were the bane;
If battling for a wreath of bays
  Could soothe a heart in pain, -- 
    I'd scorn the meed of battle's might,
    All other aims above
    I'd choose the human's higher right,
    To suffer and to love!