If erst my love doth flow

If erst my love doth freely flow for thee
And frosty daggers hang from every leaf
With wint'ry breath shall robin cease to be
And cupid's eye shall bear a tear in grief

My heart I pray it does not turn to stone
From fondness nor the turn of seasons long
No lovers else I brook upon thy throne
Though lone in dark I still do yearn for song

Against the cursed sea I rail in vain
A thousand ships I'd sink to reach thee there
The skies could thrash and crack each mast in twain
And hand in hand we'd dwell in hearth-warm lair

Spite fears of love that idly turns to frost
With fire and oar we'll be no lovers lost