My beloved,
How oft' under the grace of thine smile,
Have I, in my most sane and lucid moments,
Lived o'er again blissful moments erstwhile,
When I set sight on thine beatific endowments.
How oft' under the charm of thine touch,
Gentleness, and tenderness of thine fingers,
Have I told myself that I daren't ask for much,
But that this moments may a little longer linger.
How oft' I have under the hold of thine eyes,
Looked at thee and told myself, there, your joy
There, your hope my ticker, echt with no disguise,
Like a newly sprung rose in the hands of a Fauntleroy.
How oft' when I've held you in mine arms,
I've said I shall love thee till oceans run dry,
Ne'er to be wearied by what upon me comes
For though tides run high, 'tis you I shall stand by.
How oft' I've had in mind this echoing song,
Thy likeness in mind, alterations, tempests and all,
Thy worth, known, unknown, thine right and wrong,
How oft' love undying I've promised till heaven's call.