Cold day

"Come, pretty birds, from your cold nest,
And listen to the story of ma angel praise;
The wood- cracks, let your voices be
perfectly use to serve her deity:
A pencil, paper n warm breath of mine,
A poem to my Valentine.

"Her love is love's paradise,
There is no heaven but in her eyes;
She's light than the tender dove,
And fairer than the queen of love:
still all perfections are in ease
To beautifie my Valentine.
In this part oxf the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in this cold foggy day.

you are profusely remembered