Th eJo y o fLi v i n gby Carrie Van Deusen King.Illustration by Eleanor Schorer.“This precious stone set in a silver sea,This blessed plot, this realm, this earth.”—SHAKESPEARE.WOULD heaven be sweet, if you and I were there,And would the angels bear us globes of wine,Grown rich with many a hundred golden years?I fear me not, for one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.Give me, then, earth with its humanity,Born like a zephyr, soft, among the trees,While sunlight dries the dewdrops from the rose.Give me the earth, I crave not what may beBeyond the height of skies or depth of seas;I only ask the love that mortal knows.If heaven be heaven to steal away the soulOf all my rapturous hours, then give me life—Its fog and dew, its sunlight and its shade,Its day and night—but ever let me foldThee to my heart, to keep from thee all strife,Whatever woe, whatever ill betide.“. . . .For one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.”
by Carrie Van Deusen King.
Illustration by Eleanor Schorer.
“This precious stone set in a silver sea,This blessed plot, this realm, this earth.”—SHAKESPEARE.
“This precious stone set in a silver sea,This blessed plot, this realm, this earth.”—SHAKESPEARE.
“This precious stone set in a silver sea,
This blessed plot, this realm, this earth.”
—SHAKESPEARE.
WOULD heaven be sweet, if you and I were there,And would the angels bear us globes of wine,Grown rich with many a hundred golden years?I fear me not, for one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.Give me, then, earth with its humanity,Born like a zephyr, soft, among the trees,While sunlight dries the dewdrops from the rose.Give me the earth, I crave not what may beBeyond the height of skies or depth of seas;I only ask the love that mortal knows.If heaven be heaven to steal away the soulOf all my rapturous hours, then give me life—Its fog and dew, its sunlight and its shade,Its day and night—but ever let me foldThee to my heart, to keep from thee all strife,Whatever woe, whatever ill betide.
WOULD heaven be sweet, if you and I were there,And would the angels bear us globes of wine,Grown rich with many a hundred golden years?I fear me not, for one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.
W
OULD heaven be sweet, if you and I were there,
And would the angels bear us globes of wine,
Grown rich with many a hundred golden years?
I fear me not, for one might deem you fair
And take away what I had known as mine,
To make my paradise a vale of tears.
Give me, then, earth with its humanity,Born like a zephyr, soft, among the trees,While sunlight dries the dewdrops from the rose.Give me the earth, I crave not what may beBeyond the height of skies or depth of seas;I only ask the love that mortal knows.
Give me, then, earth with its humanity,
Born like a zephyr, soft, among the trees,
While sunlight dries the dewdrops from the rose.
Give me the earth, I crave not what may be
Beyond the height of skies or depth of seas;
I only ask the love that mortal knows.
If heaven be heaven to steal away the soulOf all my rapturous hours, then give me life—Its fog and dew, its sunlight and its shade,Its day and night—but ever let me foldThee to my heart, to keep from thee all strife,Whatever woe, whatever ill betide.
If heaven be heaven to steal away the soul
Of all my rapturous hours, then give me life—
Its fog and dew, its sunlight and its shade,
Its day and night—but ever let me fold
Thee to my heart, to keep from thee all strife,
Whatever woe, whatever ill betide.
“. . . .For one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.”
“. . . .For one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.”
“. . . .For one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.”
“. . . .For one might deem you fairAnd take away what I had known as mine,To make my paradise a vale of tears.”
“. . . .For one might deem you fair
And take away what I had known as mine,
To make my paradise a vale of tears.”