My service is an offering,

The gift I freely give,

A ballad to a loyal queen,
Reminding me I live

To offer souls a simple way,
To what is fair and true,
Knowing that this work one day
Will make all old things new.

My offering is a poor estate,
But in it I rest free,
Knowing it's the humble heart,
That breathes fecundity.

My plodding hands, and mind, and heart,
Are there at her command,
And when she hears their steady beat,
I know she understands

That I am here to serve her cause,
With a crude fidelity.
So this life will pass away,
And then, eternity.