Prose

Though thy teeth be sharp, and thy claws great, waste not thy strength on me,
for thy beauty doth pierce mine heart worse than any wound.

Do not waste thy breath upon me, for I burn already a passion far greater than I can bear.

Oh
dragon, hold back not thine beauty from mine eyes any longer, spread
thy wings for me, let me see thy grace, thy majesty, thy glory complete!

Though thy scales turn away the sword, they can not turn away my love for thee.
Though thy wings block the sun, they can not block mine thoughts so bright of thee.
Though thy eyes stare death, I . . .only have eyes . . . for thee.