I, implore thee, do not envy defend!
Useless cruelty doth destroy goodness;
Curled within thine soul pure deception rend;
And slays the lion’s heart of sureness.
True delight that thou lovest me only,
In the summer of our youthful virtue,
Seeing the free heart replace the lonely,
Knowing love so pure could never hurt you.
Let us revel dear: ah! fragrance of youth
Sweet glee rests in vaults of memories,
And therefore lives on as love’s gift of truth,
That childhood once shaped polite verities:
Joy to all ends; heav’n made securities,
Fill our inmost hearts with life’s treasuries.