Where we dwell, in holiest bowers, Where angels of light thinking I'm the slower,
Where sighs of devotion and breathings of your sun flowers...
O god, I'm in heaven ... Do not disturb the calm of Lover, It well might deceive such hearts as ours.
Love stood near the shore in silent leaves the cloud fight the tour with wandering wings, and wounding eyes...
Love now warms thee, waking and sleeping, for he tinges the heavenly fount with his weeping..... Love is the Saint enshrined in thy breast and angels themselves would admit such a guest, for there will be a time. To saw what was harvest.
Where sighs of devotion and breathings of your sun flowers...
O god, I'm in heaven ... Do not disturb the calm of Lover, It well might deceive such hearts as ours.
Love stood near the shore in silent leaves the cloud fight the tour with wandering wings, and wounding eyes...
Love now warms thee, waking and sleeping, for he tinges the heavenly fount with his weeping..... Love is the Saint enshrined in thy breast and angels themselves would admit such a guest, for there will be a time. To saw what was harvest.