Hap mirthfulness! — Oh! joy of grand riddance;
Undress me my hauberk! — the wyern hath errant’d.
Ire of yore — bard of e’eryears —
I deem the brood hath wan’d —
fore’ermore?!
Fro the chasm of the bosom, bale a hand back.
Hark! my dove — henceforth I bulwark thee! —
Teathers of swans in my pillow — I cede my heart.
Make haste! — I pray — respond my plea!
Lo! — a sire of great awe — a knight of
many battles!
…And of kinsmen weeping for the slain!
Please! — heed my words;
In thy sorrow I will kiss thy tears —
In thy bliss I will take thee by thy hand —
The sapor of grapes thou shalt savor —
And harken the nighttingale sing oh so blithely!
On his knees… A plea to harvest
roses;
No heed for the thorns you count!
Wherefore vow me?
Wherefor this gilded proffer?
Wherefore not pay court to a maid more
fair? —
Morn of a joyous day! Hower ‘twixt
weed!
Fertile desert! Cheerful dirge!
Misery me not! — man nor beast; envy
me;
Lest’tis an act of wont!
Many are the drapes that my past bury —
Ineffable feeling indulgeth in battles!
Tisn’t what thou vambrace’st thy words with!!;
I bethink dotingly only thy weal —
Forgive me for deeming thee direfully —
Therein abdiding with thee
Yet I was a trifle daunt’d.
Is for me the grandest boon!