And yet, these feelings can never be wrong
for it is as tantalising as a melodious song.
A superfluous need urges my limp heart to ****
And thy picture shalt I curse towards infinite ill.
I pray thee sigh not, speak not, and draw no breath;
let fire burn down, and dream it is not death.
I figure my love could **** thee; yet I am satiated
with seeing thee live, beside me and next to the dead.
I would praise thy body as sweet fruit to eat
and some serpent's mouth would find thee sweet.
I would find grievous ways to have thee slain
in amorous agonies and superfluous pain.
I would kiss away the glories of thy day and night
and creep into thy joy terrific torches of fright.

I am weary of all thy words and reluctant wrath;
I am devoted to thy dumb tunes and semitones of breath.
Like a fool besotted with thy soft and strange ways
Or a horse splattered in blood before the deer it chases.
Of all love's fiery nights and imaginary contours
I shalt cherish the remembrance of thy kisses and hours.
Thy shuddering lips make my heart fly away blind
and water my mouth like evening ale and fruity wine.
Thy golden hair sends my spines shivering
and my whole conscience, wanting touches, whining.
Ah, thou art more to me than all other men at heart,
becoming and full of decorous and monstrous art.
Thy amorous girdle, and flocks of thee and thy fair
Just like the unseen lilies cloven through thy hair.

Nay, sweet, for art thou God alone?
To whom I pray all night and morn,
and as thy wrath filled me with warmth
and thy remorse still rocked me away with charms.
Ah, loveliest as thou art among the chuckling grass
Like a young bud of rose betwixt its eager mass.
Hath thou made t'is earth and all centuries of the sea,
and knitted all the finest natures so fresh and free?
Taught the skies ways to marvel, every pore of beauty
and charmed my very secrets of virginity inside me.
Ah, and lulled the sun to its sleep at the lapses of dawn
before retreating back into thy heaven and divine lawn.
Crafted stars as feet for adorable morning dew
and replenishing every day so all are bright and new.

And thus my very soul is bound to thee,
holier than every branch of the exalted fir tree
Then every tear that thou might shed shalt be replaced
With my tempting kiss and its vibration and new taste.
For now thy spring of leaves is all safe but barren
Betrayed by its own snobbish and rueful garment
And thy blood streams are pricked away by agony
Hurt painfully by her contentment and gluttony
But let me save thee and clap those fears away
Then by thee forever I shalt duly stay
For thee shalt I give the kingdom of my soul
and the very mirror to its astounded wall
And wrap me around and over and under me
Thy thick blessedness and insuperable sea.