The world is yours at once and for ever.

And because you have no want, my king, you have no pleasure in
your wealth.

It is as though it were naught. Therefore through slow time you
give me what is yours, and ceaselessly win your kingdom in me.

Day after day you buy your sunrise from my heart, and you find
your love carven into the image of my life.



LXXVIII

To the birds you gave songs, the birds gave you songs in return.

You gave me only voice, yet asked for more, and I sing.

You made your winds light and they are fleet in their service.
You burdened my hands that I myself may lighten them, and at
last, gain unburdened freedom for your service.

You created your Earth filling its shadows with fragments of
light.

There you paused; you left me empty-handed in the dust to create
your heaven.

To all things else you give; from me you ask.