O'Bird, pure nonesuch like you I aspire

O'Bird, pure nonesuch like you I aspire
To feed my soul a bland morceau of love;
If your eyes can see such an intense fire;
I seek no mock love but you from above

Your dour silence to my drive is a sweep
Which meat and drink cannot indeed recess
I seize his scarce hours unto you to weep
My scheme. Hope you won't devote it to stress

Love's too deep than to swim into its past;
If you can, wake me from the bi-year sleep;
Battel my grasping barren soul so fast
With piggish pace my love to yours will seep

      I know you call me dear, I call you dear;
      I'm sorry where I want we ain't yet there