Reverie took refuge in the clouds above the sea
A lover sighed and whispered
“Here, take a bit of my airy cushion
And let it be the cotton of your garment

A woman repaired her husband’s cloth
His scent on the collar she smelled and glowed
“Here, take this string with you my dear
And let it be the thread of your garment

Her portrait he painted with dreamy eyes
A Dutch master they later called him
“Here, take this ink and walk along
And let it be the paint on your garment

The hymn at midnight filled my ears
Through the dim light of her room she sang
“Here, listen to this ardor, love
And dip your garment in the stream of my words