My love has so imbued with golden light

That visage rare which every eye adores

And I, spellbound, in passionate delight

By finest wish, could never want you more.

Yet though I pine, you stand so out of reach

As grasping mist in some elusive dream—

Here still I strive with every thought to breach

Those ramparts that surround your sacred realm.

I have no standing, lineage or birth

To rive those walls that so ensconce you now;

Not but a paltry dowry courting mirth…

As worthless as this ink—sure to raise brows.

This rune is but a bolt shot to your keep,

Staunch heart surmounting hurdles legs can’t leap.