Even the gold of princes gleams for thee,
And silver’s dulled luster doth seek thy sheen.
Brighter than the rays of Sun dare decree,
Thy face in shadow dimmed tis in between.
Waste not thy defensive gazing spirit,
For unswept ghosts of passion multiply,
And boldly spoken decree dare hear it,
Within lies hope where deepened crevice lie.
Such fond mem’ries flow in eternal spring,
That know its own and fadeth humbly from view,
Shouting from cliffs edge let freedom sing,
And harken faithful tenderness anew.
So, till then summon all that love imbue
Like honeyed comb, so flows my love in you.