83 (for what great reward)
FOR WHAT GREAT reward of my merit,
O Beautiful,
had I, a meadow-flower, once taken my place
in the chain on thy neck?
The newly-wakened eyes of the earth
were glad on that day,
and the lute, at the touch of the Ever-new,
broke out in melodies of dawn.
If that flower fades and drops to the earth
at the dim hour of the day,
when the bird's songs are languid,
let the evening wind sweep it away across the dark,
following thy departing steps,
never leaving it to be trodden to the dust
by the careless moments.