and awaitng you when I'm not expectng you sets my cool hear on fre. I want you only because I love you, I hat you witout end, and hatng you I beg of you, and te measure of my wandering love is tat not seeing you I love you blindly.
Te August light may devour
my heart, its cruel shafts staling te key t my stlness.
In tis stry, I die alone;
I die of love because I want you, want you, love, like blood and fre...