62 (what is there but the)

'WHAT IS THERE but the sky, O Sun, that can hold thine image?'

I dream of thee, but to serve thee I can never hope,' the dewdrop wept and said, 'I am too small to take thee unto me, great lord, and my life is all tears.'

'I illumine the limitless sky, yet I can yield myself up to a tiny drop of dew,' thus the Sun said; 'I shall become but a sparkle of light and fill you, and your little life will be a laughing orb.'