Fiona Fair

And then i spy
within mine eye
the lie
which has
ere been my life
tis nothing there
which would compare
to the constant strife
that i now bear
without a care
She was
dearest to me
the briefest tear
upon
this fabric of
my soul
a ghoul
a wraith
a tiny mole
tis nothing there
which would compare
to the sanctity of
thy soul
a wisp of Love's
sweet breath
to clear the
fetid air
that i should
know a moments
peace i give
to you it's
lease
tis nothing there
which would compare
to m'lady so sweet
and fair
air which she
doth breathe