Never a Story of More Woe

A peace this morning doth now bring.

Grace in hope will pardon some,

Her mantle, night doth from her fling,

In the East, where Juliet is the sun.

But soft, that wing'd light doth still break

Too make now a mockery of my heart

Is yet there breath for thee to take

Or miss in haste, keen to depart.

I stay my intent to see thee there,

Afore my everlasting rest,

I wonder, why thou art yet so fair

Can thou now be Heaven’s guest?

Wherefore must these eyes now look their last?

What crime then was here but love?

Without the tyranny of the past,

This union was blessed from above.

A dateless bargain, just as with death,

A righteous kiss did seal our fate

And suck’d the honey of thy breath,

The death in love that would not wait,

Now crimson tints thy lips, thy cheek,

To deify death’s paramour

Then being death I gladly seek,

These lips would now seal the door,

If this embrace is to be our last,

Here in this tomb I rest my woe.

Is now the die forever cast,

For my Juliet and her Romeo.