How Do I Know I Love Her

How do I know I love her?
What ruler shall I use,
To measure the intangible,
And name this servant’s muse?

Tis not the need within my breast
When e’er I spy her form,
That is but carnal fire of lust,
An earthly bitter storm.

Tis not the warmth that touches me,
When e’er she speaks my name.
That is but borrowed heat and light,
From sun’s eternal flame.

Then what, within my heart and soul,
Elusive though it be,
Assures my love is bright and true
And wants not selfishly?

I know tis love when lips are raised
And meet with gentleness.
I know tis love when hearts are one
And all is tenderness.

I know tis love when one embrace
Lasts longer than is wise.
I know tis love when lovers seek
Not truth but Eros’ guise.

And so, I know my love is true,
Because these things I see.
E’en though tis not my lips and heart
She clings to lovingly.

The part of me that loves myself,
Weeps at the scene it spies,
As she embraces he who earns
My place, my poor heart dies.

The part of me that loves her true
Rejoices without fear.
And sings a pure Hosannah,
As she welcomes Cupid’s spear.

And so I know I love her,
For I run to greet my fate.
Without a morsel of regret
Or jealous, bitter hate.

And as I die unto myself
The heart of me does soar.
I wish her love and happiness
From now to evermore.