A Beauty to be loved,
yet for eyes not for seen,
He awards who has seen
the shadow,
yet not spoken in the meadow.
Let the evening speak for itself,
Thou of slender eyes,
he has yet not felt. You came to
me with a black ambyss. For
the eyes of the Sun rose
On your lips; moonlight shining
As bright before a sky.
Recting your name for day
and night, My love, love,love
Yet no where in sight. Is it
Compassion or Passion of Love
or a twinkle in the eyes of a dove.
Let me finish my sentence
and be free in your arm.
Tonight or never
in your blessed palm.