On Love IIV

I am shameless, drunken in love with you,

though I pretend this love is something false;

but I've never known such a breathless make

as the mist you cast on my poor, sweet self.

I've never known such a shivering truth,

nor a harsher lie, that some worthy act

might come of this, and the world might grant me

just one wish, that neither our hearts defy.

I don't know your love, nor dare I to ask

for curtains fall, and there are years between –

but I would save my hope, and save my dreams

for only dreams are what love asks of me.

It is in that glow when I look at you –

so dream I shall, of love that would be true.