High velvet spheres trackless interstellar air,
where stars pulsate amid their unique bower,
universe caressing, opalescent hues refined so rare,
much unknown to frowns or rancour sour,
wheels soft scented wares, ridicule lighting's glare
to assuage, Man's trouble world of sin repeating,
those feather touched hours embracing angelic care
deride the shame, profane tearless eyes a weeping,

Love, I speak of thee and of that you gave,
entwined love's silken sash, thy bossom wearing,
whence sang you, Love's anthem, to smiling save
impulsive glory, those full flowered days of Spring,

Thus, held you a candle to the stars,
shinning more beautiful than they are.