Mine own senses hath ne’er drunk such beauty;
For thine face in morning slumber doth stun
And in that bliss ‘tis mine only duty
That thou art my love, mine own companion.
Thine repose is that of a goddess dear,
With eyes gently shut and body at rest,
Free from the devout duties and the fear,
And time will show, thou art the perfect best.
O ‘tis the sweet innocence bearing up,
That crowds sing of the favorite they see,
To touch and caress such doll of a pup,
Or extol with honeyed names unto thee.
For to see thee fair and care so freely,
With you at my side tis love ideally.