Her Face was like a cult to me Her limbs were fierce in symmetry It throws me into song The throng have done us wrong And away she goes, her toes leave gold Her horn of youth has passed behold It throws me into song The throng have done us wrong Do-oo you remember? Do-oo you remember? Pleasures of love Tresures of love The voice of light denounce the night Sweet pilgrims climb the chily heights It throws me into song The throng have done us wrong Do-oo you remember? Do-oo you remember? Pleasures of love Treasures of love Do-oo you remember? Do-oo you remember? Pleasures of love Treasures of love