A Poor Beloved!

Whenever I think that thou art mine
A doubt disturbs my belief
In the swo------n of thy love's so lustrous wine
That doubt, a memory brief










A maiden I am so lovely and humble
With none but lover's great treasure
For me, so luckless, the fate may gamble
To go out thy love's rich pleasure!
Love is no barter- I may not give
Even a trifle is return!
Sacred its power, in which I believe
For thee, yet, hence I yearn!







I love to be poor, for richer the love
If not drunken with glory
The poverty is the secret go one
Where loves can never be sorry!
No splendour I need but altered rage
My body, which half conceal
How bashful, I feel, my mind flags
The heart not the breast they reveal!
O! What can I do I am so poor
So loving, so fair, and shy!






But as to thy love I am so sure
Our hearts can none untie!!