XXVII
If all the world lost its delight
And had no other pleasure
And love alone was left behind—
The life would have its treasure.
And if all other things were truth
And love but dreams’ delusion—
I would be ready to lie down
And sleep to life’s conclusion.
And if till now I’ve only dreamt—
My dreams had their sweet flavor,
And who sang me my lullabies
I shan’t forget forever.