If love were mine, if love were mine,
I know what I would do,
I'd take it, spare it,
Give it, share it,
Lend it, spend it, too.
If beauty I could claim for mine,
To hold, to cherish, too,
I'd strive to spread it,
Pour it, shed it,
Till it flowed the whole world through.
But toil—just common toil—is mine;
And so what I shall do
Is strive to take it,
Carve it, make it,
Into love and beauty, too.