Memory of a Handshake.

No time did derange this fellow
Who gave me word to follow
In all attire their place
Brought no sorrow.

~

A noble trait
To clasp your hand,
and gesture with bow.
Oh! candour in disgrace
For believing thee
and be-fooled I became
In thy kingdom come.

~

Your wife I see her well
She stands before my bed
In sightly gown that you she wed
and wear her saintly perfume
Gently as halo around my head.

~

Sweet times you must have had
Those days that saints befell
In armour blazing flower
That left nothing to tell.

~

I yearn to shake your hand again,
and dream upon dream
She as my wife in saintly gown
Fairly this would bed you down. 

~~