Methought the joy that thou gavest to me
Was of truth and fair and naught is beneath
Yet witness'd love alter'd to sorcery,
The hours tell unveiling underneath.
Mine, at once took glance as to follow thee
Met by the years and years to me hath come
Forsooth to tarry thee from night to day
Yet thou receiv'd, I, still, was unwelcome.
Quoth he: I wish to taste what love is like,
Wherefore forsake upon the sweet took in.
And then beheld that we are not alike
For things are not what I hath to be seen.
Thou closest my heart as an obsession
Pierc'd it, which mine only true possession.
© uwak