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.