I languish in thy penetrating clasp.
Just as a bird entangled on a bough
⁠Shaken by the wind;
Yet here would I be happy in the grasp
Of death; but in thy breast I'm hidden now,
⁠And death is blind.

I melt beneath thy storm of kisses, dear,
Just as the gum upon the almond tree
Of melting when alone and far from thee:
⁠Melts 'neath the rain;
Yet would I melt to-night than live in fear
⁠O, storm again!