A Kiss From My Winter Queen

Beloved Queen of pagan Winter Bliss,
If 'tis so dear to thee, then keep thy kiss!
For now 'tmeans more to me than mickle gold,
When through thy lips thy soft emotions mould;
So, where is it thy phantom feet shall roam,
Will they enchant my roads, or rest at home?

O, many a night impatiently I've sought
And thus my mind in harmony have brought,
When touched by passion, unaware of time,
My feelings I would force into some rhyme;
Yet, then the sleep, through slumbers and through dreams,
Hath them unleashed again in lovely streams.

Alas! these streams through giant waves have grown,
Whereas those dreams of mine are not thy own!
And, when awake, though feeling still the fire,
I know that I must kerb my keen desire
To ride for thee, my Winter Queen of Bliss,
And there provoke, or take thy precious kiss.

<<