Upon a Bed of Moss
Wake my little wood nymph, so I can cradle you in my arms.
Your innocence enthralls me. I'm enamored by your charms.
On this carpeted floor, lush with forest moss and wildflowers,
I'm tempted to make love to you, here in this secluded bower.
Your skin of porcelain beauty would make jealous any maiden.
Riches found in you, more valuable than chests with gold laden.
Luring lips stained as if by the tasting of rosy mulberry wine,
I long to lay down beside you and intimately make you mine.
Sleep easy, my little virgin, until the time of your own choosing.
Your virtue safe with me for tonight although we're both losing.
What wonders await when I glimpse the passion in your eyes.
Tis then you'll know my love for you in a look of no feign disguise.
I'll carry you to your home and accept this tender moment of loss
until the day we shall return to lie together upon this bed of moss.
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