her voice

Sweet
there is nothing left to say
But this
that love is never lost
Keen winter stabs the breasts of May
Whose crimson roses burst his frost
Ships tempest-tossed
Will find a harbour in some bay
And so we may.
And there is nothing left to do
But to kiss once again
and part
Nay
there is nothing we should rue
I have my beauty
- you your Art
Nay
do not start
One world was not enough for two
Like me and you