As the sun rose for all to see,
Upon which came to bless me,
My troubles left, my sorrows flee,
And truth and good yet left to be.
I know this time must soo be spent,
I've borrowed time, no more t'be lent,
The banks do flounder, legalities bent,
If that is what they true do meant.
She strode across the meadow,
The young ingénue, she did go,
Fled from my bucolic bungalow,
To say "n'e'r love; I'd not know?"
Then chatoyant, becoming, comely,
And convened and known; felicity,
She, my heart, in two moiety,
And stole away with panoply
