I have loved a fair young maid, and lost her to lost faith,
Left now with only memory, which is itself a wraith,
My Love had all the virtues, that Nature has to grant,
A pure and loving heart, and the power to enchant,
Her laughter was of silver, her hair of shining gold,
Her beauty that which only immortality could hold,
She had a gentle heart, with a smile upon her face,
Light of knowledge in her eyes, and in her footsteps grace,
Delicate and lithesome; slender as a willow wand,
was my ethereal damsel, in flower petals donned,
Each day for countless seasons, we wove our melody,
and our duet, so dulcet sweet, was played mellifluously,
Together we would dance the air, upon our fairy wings,
enrapt in the elation, that only true love brings,
Sharing in nature's bounty, savoring our pleasure,
blest to be experiencing life's most precious treasure,
Thus we sang our way through life, and reveled in our glee,
Until the curs�d day, that she was seized from me,
Then quenched became her beauty, ended were her charms,
She fell stricken to the ground, and died there in my arms,
No kissing could revive her, nor weeping her recall,
and I was left to face the world, enchained as Mourning's thrall.
Now My True Love is gone, and I am left to grieve,
Because somewhere a child declared, "I do not believe."
You may pity me, but also that doubting child for,
we have both lost something priceless, that no one can restore.