My, my, What vain and selfish pride have I?

To want for my own what exists so pure,

holds a radiance that can so many cure.

Let your beauty spread wherever it may

That, O Felicity, is the only way.

Go be the Spirit of Hope in a heart,

the bird that sings and sings without restart.

Gift a joy which brings not just a smile,

but warms the soul for so long a while.

And if your care should upon me settle

I will know- with my life, God did meddle.