O, when his orbs did first behold the sight,

The damsel fair whose glances were naught too kind,

His innermost being neared sudden flight,

A pleasure that could not be grasped nor resign'd.

Thought raced through his gentle pate like breeze;

His soul ablaze but steadfast in strain,

He reflected on what might come so sleaze;

 He kissed farewell to any future far from pain.

Ah me! no expectation didst ever lie here;

The damsel's gaze forbade any passion.

Nay, not even one little while would appear –

Remorse filled up his heart and not a ration.

Of her love within the ashen sky.

He vowed there would be amour once he gave adieu.