My lady’s eyes are emerald green,
Above a cheerful button nose.
Her lips are full and whispering,
A ghostly touch upon my face.
Her chin, defined, and regal neck
Do so incite me, I suspect,
To act in such a manner as
To make myself ridiculous,
And we have yet to reach the best.
Blazon’s over-romantic detail,
Cannot capture her slightest breath,
But still I try, and try again
In order to give passion rest.
Tho’ here I end my ill-fashioned song,
I hope she will know that I am:
Loving in truth, and fain my love to show.
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