EN TOUT CAS.

WHEN I am glad I need your eyes

To be the stars of Paradise;

Your lips to be the seal of all

The joy life grants, and dreams recall;

Your hand, to lie my hands between

What time we walk the garden green.

But most in grief I need your face

To lean to mine in the desert place;

Your lips to mock the evil years,

To sweeten me my cup of tears,

Your eyes to shine, in cloud's despite,

Your hands to hold mine through the night.