In Thine Loving Hands (to the person who ever inspires my sonnetry)
The time has come beloved to bid adieu
This love today, that hangs on noose
Perplexed her destiny has left to you
She lives or dies tonight, for you to chose.
Alas! my soul is just a shabby page
That clings to her, until she dies away
But you, who is her beings confused small cage;
Is life for her or death, you won't just say!
And still I dream of you, lost in my dreams
In meadows where I reach to you from sands
I see you chanting solemn by the streams:
"I shall requite my heart for thine loving hands!"
Each moment thus this moth just burns in you
And every moment thence revives anew!
The time has come beloved to bid adieu
This love today, that hangs on noose
Perplexed her destiny has left to you
She lives or dies tonight, for you to chose.
Alas! my soul is just a shabby page
That clings to her, until she dies away
But you, who is her beings confused small cage;
Is life for her or death, you won't just say!
And still I dream of you, lost in my dreams
In meadows where I reach to you from sands
I see you chanting solemn by the streams:
"I shall requite my heart for thine loving hands!"
Each moment thus this moth just burns in you
And every moment thence revives anew!
