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Lone_ly Love

Lone_ly Love

Hey, let me make haste,
and find a road,
to the house,
of my love.

Where I shall hid my face.
Till thou,
lady, o' so fair,
hast made a choice.

Which shalt be,
either so fair and true.
And thou shalt see,
that mine eyes shalt cry.

Or a choice,
O so foul,
that it shalt make,
mine heart ache.

A pain,
can ever,
pretend or fake.

And now,
my lady,
O' so fair,
or so foul.

Do I lay,
mine head,
to the rest,
before I fail the test.

From the hair,
to the soul,
from the brain,
to the bowl.

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