On the waxen crag face
On the waned tree tops
On the creamy icy lake
On the concrete silver hopes
Girls doing coranto, standing and falling
In cubiculo you wink and couch
Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
Or maybe it’s just thy name
Ivory eyes, pure hub
My love can get no place, bide no denay
Why jaw about inane love
Now I really don’t know what to say
I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness
Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot
Thou bless them; exsufflicate and blown surmises
They are sick? They are weary? They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches
On the waned tree tops
On the creamy icy lake
On the concrete silver hopes
Girls doing coranto, standing and falling
In cubiculo you wink and couch
Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame?
Or maybe it’s just thy name
Ivory eyes, pure hub
My love can get no place, bide no denay
Why jaw about inane love
Now I really don’t know what to say
I confess me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness
Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot
Thou bless them; exsufflicate and blown surmises
They are sick? They are weary? They have travell'd all the night? Mere fetches
