A woman’s eyes wary like a fish of sea,

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A woman’s eyes wary like a fish of sea,
But see not the lover’s faults goes to ruin,
And knit a fine spider web can’t she flee
From the fine web she dies there soon.
O Lady read my verse that will you tell,
How much I love your innocent face?
As the romping fawns sitting in the dell,
Through my verse I enhance your grace.
Love is lovely, lovers prove to be traitor,
They in traitor love do peak and pine,
Then death proves to be their liberator,
In all love failures death is a mortal fine.

To taste the taste of life death is must,
As the soft lips are must to kiss the bust.