Wretch ‘mong the ruins of shame’s darkened tomb
Was I when Love beheld my dying heart.
My deathly grief, thy noble lips consumed;
In breathless passion thou baptized each part.
And thy princely hands that did unchain me,
With ardor sought my bondage to undress.
Thine hands now marked in suff’ring Love’s decree
Belay my tears with bittersweet caress.
No endless worship, nor blushing prayer
Could ever my soul in rapture declaim
That would defray the weight thy heart did bear
When by thy enkindled love I became.
Take thou my heart, and with thine own entwine
For besotted am I, and I am thine.