Waxing Lyrical
Waxing Lyrical
‘Tis true
Thou arte more fair than this high ridden morn
More enamoured of you ‘pon a suns corona
This heart beating is
And with mirth does it rise
Its resuscitation on a break-ed light
Bandies nought with shade
But cavorts thus on a mysteries wing
Flight of angels thou do become
By prescience more
And yea, shall I walk ‘neath a palladiums light
Twas seared in mine soul
Of her
No more fortune than this my soul desireth
‘Tis Ma’Lady
As she steeped ‘ont the lilly
Her pale foot stepped ‘pon penumbras edge
Trod she so, with delicate
And cast thus into this heart
And I betwixed eclipse
More enamoured of her than ‘pon the suns corona
This beating heart is
|