Oh, my own, how I love,
Oh, my life's balm, mine humble dove;
Untiring, steadily, you lift me above,
Your Vicar exact I never can have.
I've roamed round and roved mine eye,
To many a neighbor-maid and passers-by;
None mine heart did enter as deep and high,
As freely did thee, and I know not why!
It caresses mine heart your simple ray,
You mine lip do bite like... I feel no better a way;
Your stalk bubbles my nerve, and I seem to say,
"A perfect angel that knows no disarray!"
I draw verve from thee for dreams to do,
Your guides me to oil I never can poo-ooh;
And when sometimes me challenges outdo,
On thine bosom I never can miss solace too.
Ah, I need to see you forever near,
Bold is our love, closer is no other peer;
My wreath my breath, thine love I hear,
My love my move, mine life you steer.