A Learner

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A Learner

I do not think you rightly understand:

My foolish tongue imperfectly has caught

The trick of loving words, nor, as it ought,

Serves the sweet purpose of the heart’s command.

Dear, I’m untraveled in the golden land

Of love, and in its language all untaught,

Like some poor mariner by tempest brought

’Mongst alien races to a foreign strand.

So, pretty native, bear with me until

My simple wants I rightly can avow⁠—

My will to serve you with my men and ships.

For lo! already I’ve some little skill

In the strange tongue. Ask me to kiss you now⁠—

I’ll read the riddle ere it leaves your lips!