Long reign o'er me O dear Fair Maiden;
Uncrease thy brow on which sad care doth show.
Blizzards of grief on thy chest be laden,
Though thy heart be pure as the driven snow.
Though Summer brought forth thy beauty and grace;
And its rays reflect off thy pristine heart.
Cased in the frozen tears hidden past thy face
What sorrows from the World set thee apart?
The solitude that bears thy noble crown;
'Tis a beastly sentry, a mean master!
Warmth to thine heart and spring to this town,
Shall be when thou seest in thee no monster!
Good intent oft pave thine own cold Hell;
Thou lovest too wisely, too fondly, not too well.