Don Carlos to Elisabeth de Valois

Thy love is like a wondrous western sea,

Wherein I find strange isles, bright Indian lands,

With ruby-rolling streams, auriferous sands,

And sparkling temples built in jewelry;

And many a shady, incense-bearing tree,

With brighter birds than ours, by cool rill stands;

And unknown flowers younger from God's hands,

And butterflies, which seem those flowers set free.

A wondrous world, which I have reached alone

At peril of my life; and whence I bring

Gold ingots, pearls, and every glittering stone.

But in my soul is death with all its sting:

The pain and peril only are my own;

The ingots and the gems are for the King.