You are the enchanter of this heart,
A sweetener of this being, depart
Not; you are cynosure of this eye,
The sublimest of all, the epitome.
Love is true and it is pure,
A whetted heart for sure.
Fetch love, for what lies above
Is a great darting bird.
You are the paragon,
A being of virtu; never shun
The love of the heart, for it shines with you,
Softer as the morning dew.
Leave this being dying in your love,
Permeate your verve and vim, and never part
From this heart; this love is unbounded.
Love until lives shrivel, until they fade.
Copyright: Welkin Siskin