Behind the thoughtless rush that rules my dome;
Rebels a thought to it's impermanence...

Before your ever blackness comes, let know:
By candle lit, your light lives in new breath...

To lay amidst the sweetest ocean breeze:
And nestle me to sand a sandy bed...

My eyes know beauty's art has need for praise;
For beauty stares itself into defect...

To dearest love of mine, that has yet been:
Tho' sight reveals you not, by love I know...

Should I inform these pages of our bed?
Could words have words for what is most unsaid...

O' turn the sun to where she now resides;
That here be dark, and there she's cast in full...

My lady is the moon upon my night;
The dark is far less dark around her eye...

If time shall prove you breathe whilst I cannot
And that same gentled breath need mourn for me...

Could none be so more sorry than myself
If he is found then I need lower still...

Dear lady I do know, that beauty's cursed;
To draw unwanted eyes to bask that fair...

Turn off the sun and moon, to view your form
As purest as the light that then just dimmed...