My You!

Clarinda, my Lady, my darling, my dear,
My Lovey-dove angel, I wish you were here,
For I would be telling you rhymes of my heart—
To hear them you’d swoon, and your lips sigh apart.
And then I would catch you ere fell you to ground
And tell you I love you in soft tones profound.
Then you, in half playing, would wink me so sly,
Awaiting a kiss that would fall from on high.
And I, I would catch it with love-lips made true
For lovey-dove angel, my darling, my you!

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