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Is that lute-breathing voice
Which my rapt soul is hearing
'Tis singing, 'tis singing
Thy deep love for me,
And my faithful heart echoes
Devotion to thee.
Endearing! endearing!
Why so endearing,
At each Passage of Arms
Is the herald's bold cheering?
'Tis then thou art kneeling
With pure hands to heaven,
And each prayer of thy heart
For my good lance is given.
Endearing! endearing!
Why so endearing
Is the fillet of silk
That my right arm is wearing?
Once it veiled the bright bosom
That beats but for me;
Now it circles the arm that
Wins glory for thee!
