12 lines
502 B
Plaintext
12 lines
502 B
Plaintext
Well, my true love, He dost want me and I don't understand
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For He wants someone perfect and I'm really quite bland
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I cannot endure even the slightest of pain
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But I welcome him in, o'er my heart He must reign
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Fairwell to old passions, fair well to old self,
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Oe'r the earth I will ramble, as the Baptist himself
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And when I am weary, perhaps I will cry
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And think of my Iesu, for I am his bride
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Well, I wished I was an angel, had wings and could fly
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Far away to my lover's lodgings tonight I'd drawn nigh |