My dearest lady fair,
come hither unto mine eyes
as the setting sun brings forth the moon to my heart.
Carry my sword indignant prevailed
of all these the world would teach.
Bring forth thy hand unto mine own,
let thee weave a love so great.
Upon our pasts compare torturous writhings of angst,
again make a new bold
upon tomorrows sun
to place the fervor of our hearts
and meld our souls as one.
