O love! O mighty love! your power enslaves and holds the heart in thrall.
Even monarchs bend their knees to you, and on your shrine prostrating fall.
Exquisite pain, exquisite bliss and passions sweet the heart o’erflows,
So, can you blame the nightingale that pours love’s essence o’er the rose?
O love! your fires inspire the souls of all created ‘neath the sky;
Adored are you by great and small, by gallants, kings and gods on high;
Where’er you go a throne awaits you decked with tears and sweet delight;
You are the lord of hearts impassioned; all fall ‘neath your conquering might.
Has ever slave thus bound to you, thus fettered down, for freedom pined
Though wild desires invade the heart and madness penetrates the mind?
Though passions make me nigh expire, let ecstasy of love be mine;
And let me live or die for you, your willing slave, O love divine!
