Unto thee I give my all: from my heart
unto my breath that dies forlorn. In loving
thee shalt I know the bliss of true becoming,
redeemed by the highest, purest form of art.
Kiss me I pray, thy mouth a salving breath
that makes me delay departure--time halts
as kiss upon kiss I bestow. No faults
mar my sight, neither does despair nor death.
Only thee shall I worship; shalt thy vow
fret and dismay in uncertainty? Come, say
unto me thy mind: I'm thy heart, I pray,
causing neither marks nor mars on thy brow.
Unto thee I give my all, and I low
bow down before thee thy worshipper--know.