Song of the Maidens

Older are Thou than the oldest of all,
Newest of all that is new.
At Thy saints’ feet we in service will fall,
We are Thy handmaidens true.
None but Thy bondsmen shall call us their own;
Lord, we would none others wed;
We would be slaves at their bidding alone:
So be our bliss perfected.
Ēlōrembāvāy.

"Sure for Thy child there is refuge with Thee,"
Trembling we take up the cry.
Hear, O our Lord, while we bring Thee one plea,
Grant but one boon for our joy.
May only Thy lovers rest on our breast,
Let our hands’ labour be theirs.
Only on such our eyes night and day rest,
Then sun rise west, east, who cares?
Ēlōrembāvāy.