Though thou art bound, and canst not love me now
Save only in spirit, can they stay my song?
Can it not find thee when night-hours are long
And print a far-off soft kiss on thy brow?
Can it not lurk within the hazel bough?
Can it not shine amid the starry throng?
Fulfil thy life's task: be thou glad and strong:
But this true homage further and allow!

Art thou asleep, love? Then my soul is there,
Watching. Dost thou the wakeful moments count?
Then am I with thee. At this crystal fount
My song speaks to thee from the maiden-hair.
I am in this blue gentian on the mount:
I am around, and over, — and everywhere.