Eyes that speak, how thy crystal word shatters,
When night outward lives within these ramparts.
For my love hath left mine youth in tatters,
And courage wanes when pleasure’s heart departs.
Where sweetness once chose its tender flower,
Under the brightness of the midday Sun,
And didst sweetly chide thee, from the tower
A view this rite of passage had begun.
Waterfalled spring tis purity’s release,
Passion reeling in each by common thread,
Unknowing desire’s blinding fear appease,
And spirits one content to go ahead.
Now, shards of tears, being many, art shed
And woe tis sung, when love’s first kiss is dead.