[57] 3

LIFT the veil that hides Thy splendour, Moon of all that’s fair and sweet;

Till the sun, ashamed and vanquished, bow his head upon Thy feet.

Gracious God! how can I live, condemned to solitary woes,

Grief prevailing, groans and wailing, courage failing, hosts of foes;

All the guerdon of my worship this, to spend my life in sighs,

Fevered lips and rent apparel, broken heart and streaming eyes.

All my soul is given to love Thee and the meed of my desire

Tears unceasing, woes increasing, molten heart and brain on fire.

Yet, if fate should crown my hopes, then, then as long as life remains,

Every day the sun brings round shall overpay a year of pains.