Thou art my love,
And thou art a priestess,
And in they hand is a bloody dagger,
And my doom comes to me surely--
Woe is me.

Thou art my love,
And thou art a skull with ruby eyes,
And I love thee--
Woe is me.

Thou art my love,
And I doubt thee.
And if peace came with thy murder
Then would I murder--
Woe is me.

Thou art my love,
And thou art death,
Aye, thou art death
Black and yet black,
But I love thee,
I love thee--
Woe, welcome woe, to me.




Love, forgive me if I wish you grief,
For in your grief