Eyes I spoke of once, words that burnt then,
hands that cupped soft thy lovely face,
took me from myself for such a space
of time, marked me out from other men,
the waving hair of unmixed gold that shone
amid smiles that flashed with Angelic rays,
used to make this earth, a paradise ablaze,
are but now a little dust, all feeling gone,
I grief stricken, its darkness foreign to me,
alone where light I cherished never shows
in that fragile bark strewn on tempestuous sea,
so, let my loving song come to a close,

as this my Lyric turns to tearful sigh,
the vein of my accustomed art is dry.