To what love, earns such a smile?
She must have a name,
Or maybe, she's fantasy,
For hearts running wild.

What give birth, to such tranquility?
O' friend beseiged,
Can't spread a word,
O' friend, tell him.

Passionate and soft, as the women they've seen?
A pale skin, so smooth, he's dreamed,
This glare, glitter, shining eye
Tell him of love a heart might find.