Speak not in chide or rude, unkind dispute
That Breaks the Delicate Blush of this Emotion,
But Let Thy Words Stand Bold in Brave Repute,
Broad and Sweeping, As Majestic as Any Ocean.
For while Thy Words of Grace do Speak of Love,
And While Thy Love dost Speak to Grace Thy Lips,
The Heaven’s Host of Angels, High Above,
Do Bend to Hear Sweet Music as it Slips
From the Exquisite Baritone of Thy voice,
In Speaking or in Singing, Blessed Symphony
That Permits me no Alternative, nor other Choice,
But to Pause my pulse and breath to better Hear Thee.
Thy Voice that shakes my Heart as a Trembling Dove,
Like Thunderous Morning Ignites the Passion of my Love.
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