Under the fallen branches of your home;
Across the dusty mantle I let sit,
A homemade jewel, was giv’n me by my aunt,
To hand it sweet to you for wedding with.
Though next to said ‘fall branches of your home,’
Another shiny stone did I perceive.
Budding with a ruby-emerald ring
As b’longing to the finger of a king!
Surprised and reeling through said ‘mantle dust,’
Tortured slow, by the thoughts of richly gifts;
The brightest sapphire, worth cannot known be,
Is dangling from your pale and precious wrist!
When true loves vow’s are time to be express’d,
Then find the love, whose love, leans far toward less.