Wouldn’t I give you

Everything I had?

My arm to sleep in

When you grow tired?

My breast for your head

To rest your thoughts?

The touch of my foot,

My knee, when sleeping?

The first cup of tea

The morning comes creeping?

What from this world?

What then could matter?

How could my life

Be enriched by this platter?

The richest of foods

Replete for to dine

With company, soft music,

Dance and sweet wine?

What if at all, then?

A life without care

Is no life at all, dearest,

When you’re not there.