Welt + 

Would I might mend the fabric of my youth + 

Which daily flaunts its tatters to my eyes, + 

Would I might compromise awhile with truth + 

Until love’s moon, now waxing, wanes and dies. + 

For I would go a further while with you + 

And draing this Cup of Joy so passing fair, + 

Which meets my parching lips like cooling dew + 

’Ere time has brushed cold fingers through my hair. + 