With a contusion sought for Love,
As care withheld by foes who smite,
Did they see me wheeling, rove?
And cover me in darkling spite?

Then thine humour penetrate,
Beleaguered fence around my heart,
Make the pupils, veins dilate,
As minds frolic, in mutual rapport,

The ****** diamond of my soul,
You sweetly, like a saint, restore,
Sees diamond as beauteous ornament,
Not a pawn of colonels war.

All that I am and that I know,
You fast revolutionised,
There is nowt I can do to show,
My thanks I have surmised.

To friends of me, I'm friends of them,
They stir the sorry heart,
My soul sits on God's diadem,
And gift of grace imparts.