Why is it that whomever you want most
Always retreats to a distant shoreline?
Just when you have swum to her comely coast
You find only coarse sand and bitter brine.
There seems no reason to pursue her troth
For she has choices way beyond your reach.
So why risk oaths that might just win her wrath?
Become instead mere driftwood on her beach.
At least you’ve played a truly candid part
And risked all to inspire the lady’s lust.
But never was there time you had her heart,
Never did she honour your honest trust.
So turn away and wander while you might -
Beware bewitching eyes and allure’s light.