human
Spare me, O God, until in peace I lie Asleep for ever in the land I love, Then may the sabiá carol joyfully, Perched in the palms, my resting-place above. So gathering in the first-fruits of my love, No longer homesick, every heart-ache past, Bearing the sheaves for which in grief I strove, A plenteous harvest may I reap at last.