O dear Discretion!

Tell me whence doth love take root.

Springs it from the heart’s deep core, or doth reason feed,

Doth it dance like a symphony devoid of feel,

Or a harmony lacking peace?

Thou hast made me merry, filled my frame with glee,

Thy love doth lift me from dark clouds of spleen.

For thee, my heartbeat quickens!

I cherish thy love, yet fear the lurking peril,

That which might bring sorrow’s coil upon me.

I pray thee, do not mock this love with solemn jest,

Be thou queen of my palace, and let me reign as king of thy heart!

Thou art heaven’s gift to earth,

Outshining the beauty of the moon.

Gaze upon the stars and all creatures,

Serenity of soul, all I crave.

O dear Discretion, guide us on this path,

Where love reigns supreme, divine, and sublime.