Of base life indeed is the man
Who with joy finds never a place,
Where love is no part of the plan
That drives his heart and his desire;
For all that exists with joy abounds,
Rings out, and with its song resounds:
Park, orchard, meadow, all the choir
Of heath, plain and chase.
Who with joy finds never a place,
Where love is no part of the plan
That drives his heart and his desire;
For all that exists with joy abounds,
Rings out, and with its song resounds:
Park, orchard, meadow, all the choir
Of heath, plain and chase.
Troubador Verse
