I thirst for your sweet mystery,
so drunk on love am I,
my mouth is parch'd, 'til you bestowest
balm, can I deny
the boon that cometh from your lips,
a taste of heaven's joy,
so sweetly doth your soul impart,
as I my skill employ
to succour and to satisfy
a gift so freely given;
your fragance full delights my sense,
my heart is wildly driven.
Your scent is heady, nay divine,
my soul can scarce withstand
the beauty of your simple grace,
the softness of your hand.