Dearest lover of mud and fire
Ever sought by men’s desire,
Especially by tyrants’ ire;
Without your tongue, not wont to tire
The greatest were yet forgotten, left in mire
Of those – one who’s truly able
Dared to call you but a fable-
I slam my fist upon the table!
To offer such a brazen label
Dissuades my heart from beating stable
Mine is a love of stronger zeal!
Hereby before you do I kneel;
Present me thou with lovers’ seal
To my nascent boat become the keel
Ah! what pangs and longing do I feel!
My dear, my love, my burning flame,
I beg you hold me not to blame;
T’is love! I seek you not for the sake of fame!
But dearest, darling, if you came,-
Wouldn’t you, please, just slightly raise my name?