How in this chase of material quest shall love be true;
Holding out its beauty unruffled to a cordial summer day:
Nor fly aloft as an eagle roaming the sky in pleasure,
Then wafts its plum in heavenly array sweeping misery.
Young hearts walking in a dream do encompass charmed;
Bending his height in the aisle resonating eternal bliss.
Then by time`s revealing ways a subtue imposture slacken`d;
And passion stagnant as a stream reality impounds.
Love`s but an ivy forever climbing and forever evergreen;
Winter`s breath touching pale nature to a stark form,
Nor the scorching summer blaze too mighty for absorption,
All but squat to such eternal beauty immune to deform.
Penning this I hope my verse stands in love`s breath
Frowning to time`s sternful hand and generations`ll relish
