This is a joyous trysting-place, my love,
With no inconstant climate to distract us;
Pure azure is the sky that laughs above
These admirable bowers of prickly cactus,
Where we may nestle, conjugating _amo_
(Dear old San Remo!).
We've had our difference, as lovers do;
A slight misunderstanding came between us;
But that is past; the sky (I said) is blue
And this the very sea that nurtured Venus;
Come, like her doves amid the groves of myrtle--
Come, let us turtle.
"How can they ever kiss again?" 'twas said;
But Love made light of that absurd conundrum;
And lo! your breast is pillow to my head,
And we've a pair of hearts that beat as one drum;
Our bonds, if anything, are even more
Tight than before.
Your independence caused a passing pain,
But now, I thank you, I am feeling better;
You'll never go upon your own again
Nor I will write another nasty letter;
Embrace me, then, for sign of love's renewal,
_Mon bijou_ (jewel).