Tis but thee that I compare to a rose,
For thee art thus like a bloom,
Thy does bring my heart to pleasure,
As I gaze upon thee beauty.
Tis the sun that lightens up the sky,
Thus thee does brighten my days,
My heart for mortal man be heavy,
For within which my love is found.
Be of such immense quantity for thee,
Thus this bare hard to hold in secret,
For tender to bare is your gentle soul,
That I may never hold within my arms.
Yet tis but a stone throw away from mine,
For once this love betrothed to thee,
I have yet to close my eyes to seek you there,
For as my mind doth dream we dance with stars.