Soft sighs from tender lips give ache
To heart in shadow made afraid,
to dare to beat to burst to break
for fear his words be over played.

His fingers pluck the withered bloom
to dry his eyes of wasted tears,
then casts it out into her room
and moves in shade as she appears.

No artists brush nor sculptor hand
er formed so sweet a female face,
nor could the playwrite nor poet grand
could pen such form with natural grace.

Again I fain from being seen
and risk rejection in your eyes,
as there you stand my love my queen
and I your fool wear nights disguise.

Morning born on silken wings
Illuminates where once love stood,
as unrequitted love now brings
a longing ache to cool the blood.