O, to find the words that describe
How I feel In my beloved's eye. 
Like a mighty lion before household cat
As fierce champion to his victim before a spat
Roaring ocean before modest pond;
A tornado upon a city soon-to-be-gone.
O, to find the words that describe
How I feel when cast a glint from my beloved's eye. 

If only I might draw up proper rhyme
A verse to do justice to Beloved, in due time. 
I pray thee, let it bleed out on this page, my mind,
To let one see how it is she stirs this chest of mine. 

Yes, indeed, mighty lion to lowly cat;
Fierce champion to opponent he would snap;
Roaring ocean to man-made splash;
Twister upon the village it would dash. 
You see the emotion my dear, my darling, in my chest doth cause to swell? 
One would say to great pleasure and joy it should to me compel. 

And, yea, alas, it would, if at all,
If it did not speak of me as ineffably small. 
For lion, ocean, champion; I am not he. 
But cat, splash, and broken-one-to-be. 
Nor twister, with harsh voice and fretful gale, am I
But rather the village laid waste in the blink of an eye.