The skills of other people pass me by.
I cannot wield the scythe nor make the bread…
I cannot weave the cloth nor spin the thread…
Though I have not the urge to reason why.
But what I can do most is to love you…
Have such a mind to think of you and care.
Think of you when you are not with me there…
And by your heart remain steadfastly true.

I will not spend my time in sore unrest…
In vain to do what others can do best.
But I endeavour with my heart and soul
To do those things that lay in my control.
Thus all the love you want from me I trow…
I graciously concede unto you now.