Look hard dear reader at these lines written fine,
Out of the depths of the Heart and a feverish mind,
Upon every true word I solemnly declare,
Is a lady so pure and by all Heaven so rare.
She treads within dreams and upon each waking hour,
Each long favoured glance do my eyes so devour.
Look hard dear reader for she rests in all Rhyme,
Oh Spring in her birth was never Sublime,
Under Heavens Pale Moon And dutiful Sun,
I’m lost in her light, all serenity undone.
So much my Polestar, My Compass She,
Ever present in Song that are Honoured to be.