The things I have in mind when I do write;

Not mentioning the source or her own name,

And my own thoughts which bear my strong love's might,

Be overlooked and shook from rightful fame.

For my own love, discreet but fierce as is;

Then me, this load of passion who do bear,

Trouble himself with dubiety of his,

By locking these feelings as they appear.

For just the thought of you holds me afloat,

With every night, the coach of love to ride;

And cross the open sea row'ng my love boat,

No thing in life than this could bring me pride.

But as you are now from me far away,

My love's in myself, fated to decay.