From all beings we desire increase,
So our own garden may nev'r wilt,
Nev'r to falter with time decrease,
Fading in the folds of the quilt.
Bound only to thy own eyes,
I add flames to the fire, as mine own fuel
Burden'd by lamenting lies,
Thyself thy foe - so sweet and cruel.
Confront me with thy ascent,
To the sweetest serenity spring,
Where I shall inurn mine own content
And tender love, with the waste they bring.
        Pity this ordinary I abode, along with he;
        To englut his sagacious selfishness - by the grave and thee.