Faith depends on arguments and on magic eloquence; yet anon men serve the Lord with the lance and fearless sword.

Oft the dervish robes conceal underneath a coat of steel; lovers, slaves to passion’s mood, with such armour are endued.

When the world too old is grown, it is burst and overthrown, then its water and its clay men for new foundation lay.

Stored and cherished capital, for one glance they yield it all: What a people these, who take profit of the loss they make!

What upon a blade of grass Ether-borne they bring to pass, ‘tis not strange that they can prove, ponderous mountain chains to move.

Love is as a merchandise; in Life’s marketplace it lies, now at little price is sold, and anon for mighty gold.

I have sung lamentingly out of sleep to waken thee, else is Love a labour done sighlessly, without a groan.