I Do Not Wish To Win Your Vow To Take Me Soon Or Late As Bride, And Lift Me From The Nook Where Now I Tarry Your Farings To My Side. I Am Blissful Ever To Abide In This Green Labyrinth Let All Be, If But, Whatever May Betide, You Do Not Leave Off Loving Me! Your Comet-Comings I Will Wait With Patience Time Shall Not Wear Through; The Yellowing Years Will Not Abate My Largened Love And Truth To You, Nor Drive Me To Complaint Undue Of Absence, Much As I May Pine, If Never Another 'Twixt Us Two Shall Come, And You Stand Wholly Mine.