Still to me
She is still to me like refined gold,
a fine sunshine after a hurricane,
a pleasing sight, despite knowing that she is lost to me forever,
yet at every sight of her I am lost in her beauty.
O for grace to wean me away, what is in the end an appetite,
that I shall never have.
who never was mine, was another’s rich supper to enjoy.
I shall never forget her.
She shines bright in the sky
and I am chained underneath this oak tree
shaded from her gleaming rays.