When mine eyes near to close - for truest sleep
then best her gentled hand beside me hold
as I'd take with, her sketch into the deep
to let her fairest portrait, beacon gold.

Then into bodes of seraphs I'd have flown
and bid the high archangel grant me this;
that in his flock have one alike my own,
as only then has one bestowed true bliss.

Before the gilded counsel, I will gift
her glow that carried from the nether sphere
and blaze a shrine that'd bring an answer swift!
To match this beauty's flair, there are none here.

Then blast me into limbo! There I'd wait
for her eternal grace to be my fate.