Will I find my love? I must ask thee, oh knowledge and all deity.
Wither I go to find her smile, oh this is my hearts desire.
I know know not the woman I seek,
but perhaps fate would bid her to speak.
My heart consumed, like paper to fire;
glowest bright, yet destroyed from the pains of this inquisition.

Oh woman of my desires,
tell me who thou art,
and from what land thou comest
or if thou art my neighbor.

Dreaming is my release,
when I almost see thee,
God bid me sleep a thousand years.

The thought of you, like tasting pure light.
Oh sweet taste lingers on my tongue,
with the gentle breeze of righteousness.
Yet how should I have this taste, which I know not?

Perhaps we’ve spoken, though not with voice.
Ordered letters made of light;
my fingers type, yet they would hold thine tight

My commitment to thee, would not be weefy,
strong and enduring, like literature itself.
The definity of words of love, they speak of thee,
oh, woman, wilt thou lovest me?