she makes of me her willing slave
and to her whims comply
and in such pleasured bondage
I’d with all gladness die
the gloriest of all my deaths
and greet my end raptured
for the first day she looked my way
my heart was hers, captured.
she makes of me her willing slave
and to her whims comply
and in such pleasured bondage
I’d with all gladness die
the gloriest of all my deaths
and greet my end raptured
for the first day she looked my way
my heart was hers, captured.