Give me thy hand, and hold me closer still;
For I am at the precipice, and pray,
That thine heart across the ocean fulfill,
All dreams thou hath conjured both night and day.
O, blame me not for the dulling of pain,
The marred soul doth bear life’s heavy burdens,
Where teardrops lose count in the pouring rain,
Sadness sinks into mind as thought deepens.
Were it not heroic to mend thine heart,
And snatch thee from gnawing teeth of despair
I would again bid thee love from the start,
For love is to me as life clings to air.
So, look to the wind and stars in thy care,
Thine own glass do fill, and I’ll meet thee there.