To when our kiss of love will be the last
I pray to know it last, then whisper too.
Before you rose, in love were I miscast
As darkest crane that none in flocks imbue.
Until in April dreams you perched my nest
From out your Venus star and into mine.
You found in worth my plumes that withered best
As shone by pending brides, of lusts repine.
Ah! Yes, you weathered each love's fabled storms
That I sent well to guard the voiced behest
For deep, I yearned that teach of heart's reforms
That last you made and spoke within  my chest.

I'll gift these all, if moments near the end
But now I love, and yours shall I attend.