Is not the dawning very slow to rise—
Set both your arms about my weary head,
Let me lean back a moment & confess
My great misdeed—lest when that I am dead,
You, knowing nothing of my wickedness
Should say 'my darling is in Paradise'
Is not the dawning very slow to rise?
Come closer to me for my voice is weak,
And my soul loathes the words I have to say—
Open the windows it is surely day
But that my eyes are darkened. Kiss my cheek,
Once loving, ere you spurn me for my lies