To what shall I compare you, love?

To caves below or land above?

And what of your heart's most radiant hue?

Verdant green or azure blue?

If I call it most beautious red,

will you please rise off this bed?

For my crimson adorns your brow

as I wait, any moment now

for a flicker, a twitch, a glistening eye.

Shall I, too, tell them all goodby-