My words doth speak a eulogy for hearts
That beat so close yet bleed from distant shores,
The crimson tears from man who lives apart
From woman fair, who loveth him yet more.
And she in turn doth weep, for earth and sea
That sunders union of flesh and blood,
Forever dwelling far apart from he,
And praying gods their weaving will be good.
A deity would grant their wish in time,
A promised word if they could keep their faith
For two full turns of winter's frost and rime,
If so the lover's fate would be then safe.
A triumph great of souls that meet at last,
Desiring lust and passion's great repast.