78

The taste that’s sweeter than that of honey, The lips of a women whom is mine to wed, In death or sickness shall I stand by with money, I’ll lie and wait to heal with you in bed, To be with you all in a summers day, The sounds of laughs harps the strings of beating hearts, And then dance with you in the spring of May, To share our interests of equal parts, To hold you under a moonlighted night, In the open arms of love and compassion, and in a dark and spiteful time of day, I’ll fight for thee with fists made stricken tight, As a protector of you I stand strong, To guard you with my willful heart held high.