Would it be I lived within your sighs
Or died ensnared eternal in your arms.
Imprisoned by the spell of verdant eyes
And cast in limbo midst your gentle charms.
A Butterfly's wing beats upon the pulse
That pounds an aching heart for punishment,
Though debt enough is paid when dreams convulse
And from those softest lips comes no consent.
Our ephemeral meetings never we eschew
For in those cloistered moments love anew
Does grow again as if a budding flower
Is born once more each time the passing hour
Allots ebullient times to such as we
When touching eyes decree this love is free.
