If trumpets blew
And angels hath flew
Would thou still not see’est
my love for thee true?

If gold bloomed on
the wake of morn
And the sprits of woods
and seas were born
Shan’t they convince thee
of my loves growing storm?

Or hast thou turned
from all that delight
Given up and abandoned
thy mystical sight
For now my lover’s eyes
seem to miss imaginations delight
Looking for fancy’s
in earthly matters
Forgetting to dream
and learning  flatter
 missing the mystical weave
of lives grander patterns
Leaving my heart torn and
weeping soul battered
Because thou hath abandoned
the only essence of life that truly mattered