To A Lady Who Wants Me!
Oh lady! How lucky thou are,
by Instalasi Sastra
Only if thou take me;
Thunder claps in thy bosom like war,
When thy eyes so blind to see.
I will be faithful to thee my swain,
And accept thou as what thou are;
I will buried all my pain,
And show how much I love thee this far.
I can not let anybody touch thee,
For thee I surrender my flesh, my soul;
But still with me thou free,
Without ever judge each other foul.