Written by Henry Farrell Heartsore famed! Still! I seek her love;
But coy her heart! It won't let be:
For long! I seek her pleasures might!
Entreat my love! But failed her eyes to see.
O' cam'st thee! And thee my love - - -
To note! Obvious in its breasted home...
my heaving heart; its merriment, her devoted behove...

Since supper me, her arresting tread of vision
In beautiful form -
A Godly - send! To view;
In fact! Never was such fine tell...my eyes inform - - -
And as a color-maid of delight,
The wanton most know'st! defeats my pitiful fight:

Ah! Truth be! My love for her, has neither stop nor start - - -
Thusly! This is a poet's song...embalmed of woe,
But honest with desire! To share your heart

© 10/2021