Now I beseech thee; you eternal vice.
Cast my viceties deep within these roots.
For my heart, thou hath enslaved.
And my soul, non but thee hath claimed.
Noth, Eros, but her blindfolded son;
Twixed my fate with thee O fair Daphne
When his quivering golden arrow; pierce through my mully heart.
Then thy love bacame my bane; and thy heart my sougthed price.
But you embraced the warm breadth of mother nature.
Darmning my soul to eternally adore thy laurel roots.
So I imortalised you in heavenly green;
And invoked Apollo's lyre to sing my praise of thee:
"Always my hair will have you; my lyres will have you,
my quivers will have you, laurel tree.
You will be present to two Latin places,
when the happy voice will sing a triumph,
and they will visit the great ceremonies at the Capitoline Hill.”
For your love, my opium be;
Beneath this tree, I'll remain with thee.
♥
