Dearest maiden for where hath 'tis fruitful soul gone?
Thy be'st but a lostful soul wandering among'st here,
Time's unfairly growth shall 'spire souls turn wan,
And shall lostful faces draw lostful affairs to share,
For thee curtains of her seeking tale be swiftly drawn.
'Tis journey to find thyself shall she inevitably be seen,
Seeking thyself - which be'st the most desirable wealth,
Where satyrs mock and desires grow faithfully lean,
Who arth thou? shall 'tis maiden lostly asks thysel'th,
For thy'st lostful mind makes lostful hearts unclean...