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Gladden my heart with your pretty kiss,
Give over the habit of turning face away,
When I compose rimes I do you miss
Nay your pretty eyes your love sway.
My heart burns as a candle in a church,
In your vision your inborn willful will,
Gives me lullabies and leave in the lurch,
As the virgins pat a kid at the widow’s sill
My love change wills with the modern age,
As you change fashion and chameleon hue,
Your pretty ruth is hidden under pretty rage,
As a foodless child be hungry on the pew
In my vision when I gloat over your face,
Crude words for poetic use I always trace.
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