1.
I dare not close my eyes and sleep tonight
Since if I dream, then waking means despair.
So if I may not sleep, I'll wake and write
Of him within my arms, his scented hair,
His finely moulded limbs, his parted lips
His hands which wield caress as well as sword,
His gently tapered waist, his moving hips,
His eyes which speak so much without a word.
Three hours ago I thought this night no more
(No more unique, nor no less sweet torment)
Than any other guarding at his door,
A task at which I many nights have spent.
A breath upon my ear, through door ajar:
'They shall not say I was without my guard.'
He sat before me, fingers on his lyre,
His loose tied robe flowed stream-like to the floor.
I, standing by, could scarce hide my desire
Thus called inside for reason all unsure.
He rose, and left his lyre upon the chair.
I forced my eyes to stay upon his face,
To look upon his eyes, his locks of hair,
Which each the other down his bare neck raced.
He came to me, his fair skin lightly flushed,
The star I longed for from the heavens fled,
And spoke, our lips so close they almost touched.
In whisper thick with earthly thoughts he said:
'I am no star, no distant far-off sun,
But merely Man. Would you'd treat me as one.'
