My beloved, whoms lips rumoured of sweet taste,
and jeweled eyes cast of bliss
Hear a fool's unbosom of desire,
though the champagne puppets my words.
This heart carries such heavy burden
Impair, for it may be so.
Tis' unwise of me to share but a moment with you,
whilst all ardor embraces my entire self, mind and body
Tis' inane of me to have dreamt of you in late nights of spring,
whilst weary I am to yearn you do the same.
A sure cretin I may be, incessantly,
yet an impassioned fool at your hand.
Here I plea, chalice in grasp
and my feeble heart in the other
To hear but a whisper
that my foolish desire, my passionate aching, is requited by my beloved, and you alone.
