"Psyche Loves Me"

I have no gold, no lands, no robes of splendor,

No crowd of sycophants to siege my door;

But fortune in one thing at least is tender--

For Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?

I have no fame, nor to the height of honor

Will my poor name on tireless pinions soar;

Yet Fate has never drawn my hate upon her--

For Psyche loves me1!Could I ask for more?

I have no station, know no high position,

And never yet the robes of office wore;

Yet I can well afford to scorn ambition--

For Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?

I have no beauty--beauty has forsworn me,

On others wasting all her charming store:

Yet I lack nothing now which could adorn me--

For Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?

I have no learning--in nor school nor college

Could I abide o'er quaint old tomes to pour;

But this I know which passeth all your knowledge--

That Psyche loves me! Could I ask for more?

Now come what may, or loss or shame or sorrow,

Sickness, ingratitude or treachery sore,

I laugh today and heed not for the morrow--

For Psyche loves me--and I ask no more.