At long last from what loneliness made of me,
Grafted myself one person anew with utter face,
Treating my ways and as the sounded lay did free;
For the prince that turns his ways and gestures day,
Commands it so that none the wiser her words unspoken,
That for no sight upon mine but never for then deceive;
As great a spire whence lay that warmly brushes then against,
Gone and called hence respire no effort made for tender sound,
Slowly blossoms in all her wonder for smaller grown.
At turns behest and frail; for her wanton style abruptly shown;
And in my lack of looks thus she gained hers better,
And in her fame thus mine shrunk to only her shadow distant,
Thus in her great’st ways gave me fine choice singled out from men amongst;
Though if ignorance may and shunned me a fairer choice that I be singled then,
Charms as way that then made her escape swiftly towards the red,
And towards the red came from her own admonishment remade.
That of her renown made the infamy the beast of her;
That of her shining light that under my darkening brow hath congealed,
So grim as the tales told and nor the name mentioned none the face stirred,
Who with my heart strapped in leather had pulled from my chest,
Who with my conscience lay had selfishly drained her both.
Yet soon I sat at that place once the same,
To have thought of you better, but never again;
Only for a moment deliberated on thy face;
Only for a moment did remembrance bring me joy.
Only for the distance made between our beauty can never I redeem.