Lend me not a servant, O God, lend me not a lord
Let me walk beside her, and she of her own accord
Let me walk a guided path, equal in our tread
And be ever wary of her wrath, if she should be misled
Grant me not a prize to win, take not of her fire
For her warmth to hold and sit beside is all that I desire
You did not make her feeble, God, she was not born to tame
And if, O God, she were broken, there would be no greater shame
Surely your angels would weep, and surely the heavens would pale
This love of mine, she has a flame that withstands the blowing gale
And if this flame should falter, God, then lend her some of mine
But lend me not a servant, O God, for the lady is divine
Cast away my envy, God, lend me not a jewel
For to hide away her brilliance, I would surely be a fool
I ask of you in earnest, God, to keep in equal parts
The love that we would share, my God, if she would have my heart
