I look thee in the eye and have lived thee
In awe hath thine own truth confess’d itself,
As bleak winter’s diurnal course doth plea
Fond beggar, at thine throne I find myself
We, product of the same, born of the vine
Clinging to cherished truth fielding doubt
Rooted in fermented grape turned to wine
Changing our destiny in sunshine sprout
Is it best to win love than love winning?
For seasons do change awarding new leaves
That open slowly from the beginning
Following sunrays and unto them cleaves
Thus, crowning thee till thy ripened aging
From ancient of days and time presaging
A kingdom for my love’s inward staging.