Upon this burning heart, nor add
The fuel of thy wrath.
A virgin soft and young am I,
Not yet fifteen years old;
(I’m only three months past fourteen,
I swear upon my soul).
I hobble not nor do I limp,
All blemish I’m without,
Upon this burning heart, nor add
The fuel of thy wrath.
A virgin soft and young am I,
Not yet fifteen years old;
(I’m only three months past fourteen,
I swear upon my soul).
I hobble not nor do I limp,
All blemish I’m without,