My quivering lips to kiss your brow,
My famished eyes to feast on you,
And my delirious heart to spin:
To spin a spider’s web of love,
To make your heart its captive fly.
Aye, even if you loved me not,
If you but knew the pain I feel,
Whene’er I think you love me not,
You’d treat me as a little child;
You’d tell me love’s sweet fairy tale,