I Vow to Thee, My Lover
Feb 01, 2025 06:00AM ● By Paul Chen
“Siri, play ‘Living on the Fault Line’ by the Doobie Brothers.”
I had just started a long drive home and was soon listening to “Little Darling,” a song that includes lines from many a love song: “I need you,” “I want you” and “got to have you.”
I immediately recalled the words of my teacher, Gen Mondrub. He said there really aren’t any love songs; what we call love songs are songs about attachment.
What Buddhists mean by “attachment” is that we recognize and exaggerate an object’s positive qualities and then conclude that we must possess an object in order to be happy. Said object could be a thing like a car, an action like travel, a situation like a job, or a person.
But our highest idea of love is not about possession; it’s about unconditionality. One loves regardless of what the object of one’s love thinks of, feels about or does to the one who is loving. Given that—plus the Buddhist definition of love as the sincere wish that another is purely happy—it is easy to conclude that nearly all romantic relationships are conditional by nature.
Indeed, romantic relationships are probably the most conditioned of human relationships outside of work. We expect to be loved. We expect our partner to be kind and considerate to us. We expect the relationship to include a satisfying physical component. And if our expectations aren’t met, it’s unlikely we’ll remain at peace and not feel impelled to talk about not getting our needs and wants met.
After hearing “Little Darling,” I plunged into the “What is my favorite love song?” rabbit hole and asked Siri to play a lot of songs that have appealed to me over the years. But time and again, it became clear to me that all those songs were about attaching to a person, not loving them unconditionally.
I don’t remember how I arrived at my answer. It was probably a bolt of inspiration since no one would consider my choice to be a love song. I do remember the very first time I heard the melody because it was strikingly beautiful—especially when delivered on solo violin with guitar accompaniment—and because of its context—mere weeks after 9/11. The melody is lifted from the Jupiter movement of Holst’s “The Planets,” and the patriotic hymn is known as “I Vow To Thee My Country.” It is a well-loved anthem among the British and is heard on Remembrance Day—their equivalent of Memorial Day—and at many funerals.
Now, truth be told, one must take many liberties to see “Vow” as a love song. Its two stanzas of lyrics address patriotism and faith, and I am focusing more on the former than the latter. The music itself was composed prior to being adapted to Sir Cecil Spring Rice’s poem “Urbs Dei” and is unmistakably a patriotic hymn—not at all tender, dreamy, or sensual like many love songs. Upon hearing it, especially with its lyrics, I found it difficult not to feel full of pride, loyalty and a sense of sacrifice.
Which is exactly why I see “Vow” as a love song. It doesn’t speak of unbridled desire, what one wants or what one needs; it tells of what one is willing to do for love, how love will never leave but stand up to every test and how the lover is willing to sacrifice everything for the loved. In lieu of the heart’s endless yearning for another is the swelling of one’s chest with pride for what one’s country (lover) stands for, and in place of one’s sense of propriety around another person is the sense of being part of something much bigger than oneself. A truly loving relationship expands one’s capacity for love to more and more sentient beings. I certainly have experienced this.
So, I leave you with the lyrics of the first stanza, substituting “lover” for “country.” Happy Valentine’s Day!
I vow to thee, my lover, all earthly things above
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love
The love that asks no questions, the love that stands the test
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice ❧
I had just started a long drive home and was soon listening to “Little Darling,” a song that includes lines from many a love song: “I need you,” “I want you” and “got to have you.”
I immediately recalled the words of my teacher, Gen Mondrub. He said there really aren’t any love songs; what we call love songs are songs about attachment.
What Buddhists mean by “attachment” is that we recognize and exaggerate an object’s positive qualities and then conclude that we must possess an object in order to be happy. Said object could be a thing like a car, an action like travel, a situation like a job, or a person.
But our highest idea of love is not about possession; it’s about unconditionality. One loves regardless of what the object of one’s love thinks of, feels about or does to the one who is loving. Given that—plus the Buddhist definition of love as the sincere wish that another is purely happy—it is easy to conclude that nearly all romantic relationships are conditional by nature.
Indeed, romantic relationships are probably the most conditioned of human relationships outside of work. We expect to be loved. We expect our partner to be kind and considerate to us. We expect the relationship to include a satisfying physical component. And if our expectations aren’t met, it’s unlikely we’ll remain at peace and not feel impelled to talk about not getting our needs and wants met.
After hearing “Little Darling,” I plunged into the “What is my favorite love song?” rabbit hole and asked Siri to play a lot of songs that have appealed to me over the years. But time and again, it became clear to me that all those songs were about attaching to a person, not loving them unconditionally.
I don’t remember how I arrived at my answer. It was probably a bolt of inspiration since no one would consider my choice to be a love song. I do remember the very first time I heard the melody because it was strikingly beautiful—especially when delivered on solo violin with guitar accompaniment—and because of its context—mere weeks after 9/11. The melody is lifted from the Jupiter movement of Holst’s “The Planets,” and the patriotic hymn is known as “I Vow To Thee My Country.” It is a well-loved anthem among the British and is heard on Remembrance Day—their equivalent of Memorial Day—and at many funerals.
Now, truth be told, one must take many liberties to see “Vow” as a love song. Its two stanzas of lyrics address patriotism and faith, and I am focusing more on the former than the latter. The music itself was composed prior to being adapted to Sir Cecil Spring Rice’s poem “Urbs Dei” and is unmistakably a patriotic hymn—not at all tender, dreamy, or sensual like many love songs. Upon hearing it, especially with its lyrics, I found it difficult not to feel full of pride, loyalty and a sense of sacrifice.
Which is exactly why I see “Vow” as a love song. It doesn’t speak of unbridled desire, what one wants or what one needs; it tells of what one is willing to do for love, how love will never leave but stand up to every test and how the lover is willing to sacrifice everything for the loved. In lieu of the heart’s endless yearning for another is the swelling of one’s chest with pride for what one’s country (lover) stands for, and in place of one’s sense of propriety around another person is the sense of being part of something much bigger than oneself. A truly loving relationship expands one’s capacity for love to more and more sentient beings. I certainly have experienced this.
So, I leave you with the lyrics of the first stanza, substituting “lover” for “country.” Happy Valentine’s Day!
I vow to thee, my lover, all earthly things above
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love
The love that asks no questions, the love that stands the test
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice ❧
Publisher of Natural Awakenings Atlanta since 2017, Paul Chen’s professional background includes strategic planning, marketing management and qualitative research. He practices Mahayana Buddhism and kriya yoga. Contact him at [email protected].
