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And now my pen in honor here doth write, in praise of thee thou soul divine of love. Thou art the conquerer of this sorrow pile of life, thou art the song, the singer and the dance. Thou art the shade of all repose and peace; better thy smile than a triumphant wreath. Better thy friendship than a monarch's wealth, stronger thy hand than all armed force. Fountain Divine, thou life of all that's born, thou ruby of the wine, thou perfume of the morn. Friend and light of the wintry path, the dew drop's sparkle, and the flame that burns. Comforter divine, thou art the wine that cheers; may we ever of thy vintage drink.