’Tis but swallows that wing beneath thy grace,
their flight little to thine elegant gait.
Thy touch be the gaoler of my soul,
thy gentle caress mine only goal.
Thy voice ’tis sweeter than nightingale’s liquid trills,
whose evening song pales to thy still lips.
For if a kiss I should steal this night,
happiness I’ll bind—Paradise’s delight.
Like ocean waves thy bosom rises and falls,
carrying this lost ship to pleasures unknown.
And thine eyes be bright stars that ever guide,
to untapped waters thou hide deep inside.
Oh how I long for thy loving embrace,
our joining in spirit and sensuous touch.
For without thou I be a wicked wretch,
waiting for thy lily-white thighs to stretch.