When I come face to face with death
And feel its hands, dried out and bloody,
I count myself most very blessed
For simply this: that I have loved you.

When I see I-am-that-I-am
Sprinkling the starlit mists around you,
I give to Him a helping hand
With gratitude that I have loved you.

When the spring flowers are out in bloom
And sun is shining bright above you
I hope it's not much to presume
To thank the Lord that I have loved you.

As I examine in my head
The wonders with which He endowed you,
I know of nothing else; instead
I do know this: that I loved you.

And as I move on through the world,
I no more hope to astound you,
I only thank the highest Lord
Simply for this: that I have loved you.


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