MY first gift and my last, to you

I dedicate this fascicle of songs —

The only wealth I have:

Just as they are, to you.

I speak the truth in soberness, and say

I had rather bring a light to your clear eyes,

Had rather hear you praise

This bosomful of songs

Than that the whole, hard world with one consent,

In one continuous chorus of applause

Poured forth for me and mine

The homage of ripe praise.

I write the finis here against my love,

This is my love’s last epitaph and tomb.

Here the road forks, and I

Go my way, far from yours.

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