Classic Poem

Beaucoup d'amour

In spite of Wisdom's voice,
I would have heaps of gold;
And quickly at my mistress' feet
My treasures should be told.
Oh! never, Adele, would I cease
To satisfy thy least caprice:
Nay, nay, mine is not avarice —
But much, much love.

To immortalize Adele,
Were I with song inspired,
My verse, that ever painted her,
Should ever be admired
Ah, would that our united name
Might thus some future mention claim!
In truth I have no thirst for fame —
But much, much love.

And if to regal state
My destiny should lead,
Adele shall beautify the dream;
All rights to her I'll cede
To please her , and for that alone,
I'll hail the splendor of a throne:
Ambition I have scarcely known —
But much, much love.

Yet why this vain desire?
Adele my hopes can crown;
Love can do more for happiness
Than fortune, state, renown.
Then may I trust this joy will bide,
And fear not, let what may betide;
Mine is nor fame, nor wealth, nor pride —
But much, much love.