For I understand, now,
That it was not love:
It was merely my mistempered;
Beshrewed list,
For what is só scarce
In this marred world:

She,
Is oft misused and no one descrys thee engrossing forfullment she gives:
Like a mantle of a paramour,
On a flesh penetrating night...

Marry!
My heart feels tossed on the abstract,
For I was overturned with the conceit
Of being Your Thisbe...
Your Trojan princess...
Your right-hand-lady...

But Sir,
My heart, now
Desires but one thing:
To be announced as one's kindred
And be loved as a kingsman

I am content, in faith!
Let us lief love
With a love, greater than love,
And may we build with flint
On the foundation of vestal love.
Let us be one another's bier
When our bodies brine;
Ghostly anchor...
Pilot in the bailful pestilence;
Crotchet in woe;
Behoveful paramour to tell aught to
Without the conceit of neither being cast by
Nor discreet;
Aqua vitae dram in languish...

When thát day abroach
I shall anon be aught...
Do aught for thy...

When thát day abroach
I shall doff
All inadequasies...
And love you
Invariably!

I know now,
Why
You have captivated my heart,
Mister Sir...
For you were,
My image of perfection,
And attraction:

My heart has become tar,
For longing for your defection

You were an identical heart beat
And soul to mine,

But,
I was vile and young and bold...

I no longer need salvation,
For my King has come

I rather still fancy your immaculenity,
For I dream about it:
Sun down,
Sun up.

Bailful fairness sudders one
From reality and fantacy...
Wanny visage enlighted:
By eyes of a cockatrice,
Never, to judge nor protest against.

How I have love thee?
Soon, to be forgotten by,
Leaving to be languished and,
Purged of love.
Love?
Never releases thé flying White Dove

Acts of Diana, knowingly brought me
Down like Juliet
For love is not love,
Without sacrifise?

Left, bewitched for amercing time,
Left, with the conceit of bestowing one's prescence once more.

Only,
To find the gall will,forsooth,
Gallop forth the next life...
For I have loved you always.