For Nerine

For we shall live ever young,
Blow thou so called aging,
And with strongest hearts pumping,
Thou canst surely not be staging.
But when our sunset fadeth,
Thine friendship together we will miss,
Thou must hang on o’flower,
Or begone! The passion and the bliss.
If thou swear’st your love,
Then I do love thee too,
A govern’d death together,
The best that we can do.