Joy

Poor souls that think that Joy is bought

With pelf;

The bait that captures joy is joy

Itself.

My joy it came mysteriously

At birth;

I give it to, not take it from

The earth.

Have pity on my enemy:

Again,

And yet again, my triumph gives

Him pain.

Come, Death, give my life’s perfect end;

Take me

In my sleep, Oh Death, and do not

Wake me.