HOW shall I, in my pride, array
The one I choose,
What purple and what gems display
For her to use,
What flowing silk and flowered hem,
What diadem?
What shall I, in my love, desire
Her eyes to see,
When she steps forth in her attire
So daintily,
What pathway shall I deem most meet
For her dear feet?
Each thread of gold, in Heaven wrought,
Which I receive
To fashion my divinest thought,
I will inweave,
And twine a rare and royal dress
For my princess.
In her clear sight the magic earth
Shall all be fair,
No evil thing will come to birth
In her pure air,
All paths shall turn to fragrant ways
Wherein she strays.