If I had wings, my lady, like a dove I should not linger here, But through the winter air toward my love, Fly swift toward my love, my fair, If I had wings, my lady, like a dove.
If I had wings, my lady, like a dove, And knew the secrets of the air, I should be gone, my lady, to my love, To kiss the sweet disparting of her hair, If I had wings, my lady, like a dove.
If I had wings, my lady, like a dove, This hour should see my soul at rest, Should see me safe, my lady, with my love, To kiss the sweet division of her breast, If I had wings, my lady, like a dove.
For all is sweet, my lady, in my love; Sweet hair, sweet breast and sweeter eyes That draw my soul, my lady, like a dove Drawn southward by the shining of the skies; For all is sweet, my lady, in my love.
If I could die, my lady, with my love, Die, mouth to mouth, a splendid death, I should take wing, my lady, like a dove, To spend upon her lips my all of breath, If I could die, my lady, with my love.