Betaken I am, through the world’s hapless trails
each time when you rise; would my defence not contest.
You walk me through a place too far, a time too long to quest
yet only to you besorts, this sea that ardently hales.
Begird may the stars be; they stand no host at you
nor does the gallant sun always bring you glory.
Though I shall not be ferried to a golden story
I wish you’d beam midst all murk I’ve been through.