Beauty:
of an eye has been intriguing,
As like a Rose:
in the artistry of all searching the hidden
meaning.

A gaze: to be glazed for me to blink,
sweetest red to sour cheeks,
Seeing into something so unique.

Yet try to pick out,
passion; it's then lost from heart,
I seem unable to love you without.

Truly I'm not as one willing,
like many love sicken fools:
To fall in love so easily.

Thorns are then to ***** my heart,
I'll shout and call for you,
Yet love won't hear me out.

So enough now said;
I may instead, rest on her {rose's bed.}
For as the sweetest of life;
still follows the saddest of deaths.