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Promise This – When You be Dying —

Some shall summon Me —

Mine belong Your latest Sighing —

Mine — to Belt Your Eye —

Not with Coins — though they be Minted

From an Emperor’s Hand —

Be my lips — the only Buckle

Your low Eyes — demand —

Mine to stay — when all have wandered —

To devise once more

If the Life be too surrendered —

Life of Mine — restore —

Poured like this – My Whole Libation —

Just that You should see

Bliss of Death – Life’s Bliss extol thro’

Imitating You —

Mine — to guard Your Narrow Precinct —

To seduce the Sun

Longest on Your South, to linger,

Largest Dews of Morn

To demand, in Your low favor

Lest the Jealous Grass

Greener lean – Or fonder cluster

Round some other face —

Mine to supplicate Madonna —

If Madonna be