Fairest lady is mine own poison
A brume of sweet pear and Irish fragrance
Yet, I can not throw her hence
For she ravages the mind and soul
That was graced to me upon birth

Her departure still haunts me so
The unexpected nature of it
Visions of her wispy hair lights
And tangles over her sweet face
Rosy it was, during amorous rites

Now I'm hath left with thoughts
Of another man in all of the spots
That we beautifully existed in
So curse this love potion of death!
Until the very day that I die!