young affections in their deathbed lie
newborn wings doth spread the April air
two tender hearts together doth they fly
thou hast spoken vows that lovers share
alike bewitched in the sweet love's game
breathing such words rather doth he type
thine heart and mine tis one and the same
with thoust love and my own ever ripe
those souls from which love doth breed
my dormant wings now take their flight
on thine sacred words shall i feed
i pray thee hold forever to this night