Ode to Lizzie

A great metal bird, thy chariot with wings
Wilt fly thee off, into the sky so vast;
Back to thy land, glad tidings it brings,
Whilst I remain, looking quite aghast.

Alas and alack, I rue to this day
That thy fair hand I kiss’d not at all.
With troubl’d conscience I have to say
I wouldst have done so, had I the gall.

Oft do I strive, to think of thee, sweet Lizzie,
And yea, have I prayed to the Almighty on high.
But, methinks, He must yet be busy,
For thy sweet face, I have yet to espy.

I pause oft-times, by the shade of the oak
And smile when I see thine innocent face.
I dismiss with disdain, looks of the folk;
They knowest not of thy charm and grace.

Belay, ye feelings, have ye no pride
To torture an old soul all the while?
Begone, I say, thy cursed faces hide;
Once more let this wrinkled countenance smile.

When I think of all the insolent pups
With wagging tails, how they surround thee,
My sustenance spills from quivering cups;
How come they dare to be around thee?

But I cannot compete with these younger men
And if fate wilt have it, then it must be.
Mayhap one day we may meet again,
I hold not my breath, if thou wilt pardon me.

Someday for certain, (may I be so bold?)
‘Twill come the day that thou shalt be wed;
Perhaps, my lady, I shall be grey and old,
But for thee I’ll spare a tear to shed.

Perchance, a kind thought here and there
Wouldst surely not go too much amiss,
If in thy thoughts, I wouldst sometimes fare,
Upon my soul, ‘twould be like a kiss.

Farewell sweet maid, my love, my Lizzie,
Thy smile and thy beauty light pathways ahead,
For truth be told, thou still maketh me dizzy,
But let me dream on, until I am dead.