Too long I've implored Love's ministry,
Too long grim silence has reigned;
If Love would only beckon to me
No bonds could keep me constrained

What foolishness might I contemplate,
Deeming it necessity?
Through weeds and thorns, barefoot I would run,
If Love should beckon to me

Ignoring the rules of Good Judgment,
And placing my trust in Chance,
I'd fly to Love, bounding all hurdles,
With nary a backward glance

So weary am I of solitude,
So bereft of joy and hope;
Time has carried all my dreams of Love
To realms far beyond my heart's scope

But I've heard that Love can resurrect
A dream lying cold in its grave;
And so I cling to that beacon of hope,
Despite all the tears that I gave

I want to feel the euphoria
Of falling under Love's spell;
(Pay no heed to the years that I wear --
Youth had its own tales to tell)

Yes, at times Love can seem indifferent --
Cruel and willfully cunning;
But I'll be neither judge nor jury . . .
Should Love beckon, I'll come running!