O love, my love…where in this lonesome hour Can my heart with sweet abandon find you there? If chance upon the wind, you do float as lotus flower Would on my earthen bed you gladly fare? I am your silent lover…though cloaked in gentile guise With lips, mine own affection would I treat you And in the twilight’s gloaming your embrace there would I prize If fate would look away while there I greet you. O suitors, I commend thy will to win her proffered hand While exile finds me close enough to see Yet mark this, would be lovers, her hand there you may find But her gentle heart was offered first to me. ~Christopher Thor Britt