If but the chains of love were freely worn
These chains, my love, I would of hard endure
And would not of my past recall and mourn
And not the nature of these chains explore.
For as I wrench and press and try these chains
Your heart I've seen, in pain, has fallen prey
As shackles are not 'mine' but 'ours' remain
And I escaping you strangling stay.
Oh ... if I, the lessons, could learn alone
If Cupid's eyes were painted not malign
Desire then would have no strong hold sown
Of your heart wove destructively to mine.
For like the warmth emanating fire
If held too close, love becomes a pyre.
