Not as prince but as man I write,
For my love burns not as a painted fire,
But ignites my passion to soar as a kite,
As with rhapsody sings Chapel Royal Quire.
Choirs and military fanfares proclaim my love
As if a thousand unseen angels loudly sing
Bringing a choralled heavenly melody from above,
While my heart expresses this magnificent thing.
My love is the melody of a murmuring brook,
And inebriates like cellar's aged wine.
I remember at St Andrew's my breath you took
And I determined then to make you mine.
My love sparkles as the shards of sunlight
Strike the verdant dewey grass at morn.
For I will strive with all my might
To make you the happiest woman who was born.
Neither secular veil nor cynical smile
Can change my love to you my dove,
For I perceive that you're a lady without guile,
Truly you are a gift sent from above.
If one day I may sit on Edward's Chair,
Yet I'll love you not as king but as man,
As Aurora of the Dawn your face is as fair,
And to you I promise to give all that I am.
Our love will look at tempests and smile,
The wide oceans of life we'll sail,
For each other we'll go the extra mile,
Believing love's absolute will not fail.
