Down to the bosom where my treasures lie.
From blush to blush, and from the rows of pearl
That light thy smile, I must possess thee, girl,
And be thy lord and master till I die.
XIII.
This, and no less: the keeper of thy fame,
The proud controller of each silken tress,
And each dear item of thy loveliness,
And every oath, and every dainty name
Known to a bride: a picture in a frame