Picked coy roses never drop despair tears;
Even, her a gentle passion seek to extinguish
Doubting not her powers to bless dreams,
That long lived hearts trust not, yet cherish;
What strength brings the weak rose a blight
Than a virtuous pleasure with a reckless hand,
And souls of Men kindled with beauty light,
And heart, breath and world of love in mind,
I think ways of pleasure in men decline,
Therefore no roses, no flowers will decay,
When light of my heart shines to be thine,
Where thy beauty glow with them and stay,
That my spirit’s weakness regrets not a crime,
And my hands caress the buds of love time.