Beyond silver beyond gold,
Your beauty stands bold.
Can a queens beauty grow old
And become ashes-cold?
Above the heavens, bellow the depths of the seas,
His giant love never ceases.
Tell me the number of times
you blinked; he counts in number
Tell me the number of the strands
On where the crown sits; he knows
Tell me the number of times you inhaled;
He counts in number
Tell me the number of times you exhaled;
He knows the number.
Even now, the faithful counting exit still
All for this beauty which man can’t steal.