Love with her is like a beautiful flower
Which I may no touch, but whose fragrance
Makes the garden a place of delight
I never could explain why I love her;
The day grow shorter, the night grow longer
The headstone thickens along the way.
And life grows sadder but love grows stronger
For my love as we walk day by day
It is the prevailing breeze in the land of youth
Envy through microscope but love is through telescope

My half, the finest half of life is hidden
When I do not love you with great passion
My life is a flower of which love is the honey
My blood burns not with such excess
As gravity’s revolt to wantonness
Her heart in love is a golden sanctuary
Which often enshrines an idol of clay?
Her absence in love is like water upon fire
A little quickens but much extinguishes it
Passion may be blind; but to say that love is

Is a libel and a lie- Nothing is more sharp-sighted
Or sensitive than true love, in discerning,
As by an instinct, the feelings of another
That is the true season of love
When we believe that we alone can love
That no one could ever have loved so before us
And no one will love in the same way after us
Oh I am not of lose, who do not believe
In love at, but at first sight, but I believe
In taking a second look