Sincerely Yours

Dear to whom I write this note
it is to thee mine words do speak
that hereaft' when they are spoke
that you think no less of me.

Would that I could lend mine heart
the pen that 'scribes mine words,
that by its truest Truth to yield
the harshest Spheres to turn.

Would that I could change the Sun
and form its face anew,
that by new Light apparent make
how I see the face of you.

Would that I could lift your hand
and let you feel mine heart,
of how it aches when you are near
of how it aches when you are not.

Would that you could see yourself
through mine eyes and I's: your blinding light.
That should blindness be the price I pay,
then gladly sacrificed- mine sight.

Would that I could but hold your hand.
For that, I would change the Sun
that you would truly gaze through mine heart,
and know the Words that heart has sung.

But O!, would that you would read this note
now that mine feelings are bled forth
But regardless of what you may think now
-know:

I am truly, sincerely yours.