The holder of thine heart which lacks within my breast
resides beating, beating, beating
in your *****.
To love, to, love again,
is there in sighs and heaving,
to no others breath I will listen,
nearing religion, in devoting my soul
to those bounteous fruits of you fully grown
womanhood calling to me.
Thee, that shines upon my eyes, my deafness now hears,
resumes a life of woe un-abating,
now ticks again.
Now upon thy *****, my head rests hearing, reasons
for being again.