O' Death, O' Lady

I'm not sure if I really made this come "alive." Criticism praised ^^ Oh, and please forgive me for archaic English.


O', Death, hark ye! unsheath thine ears,
For ?'tis a mortal's grouse,
That hath been retch'd by her sighs!
An wert the maiden naught benign,
How the bosom rush'd thus to unwind;
Never were't to shame in bind!

O', but Death, she hath blest
A heart consumed in destest!
How the maid grasp'd dearly
An' brought the Sacred for the weary.

O', Death, lest be not true,
That plight e'er ban'd this touch;
Ere the tempest abound such,
How lest I this bosom naught rue!

O', Lady, thine illness o'er he -
Motion that impish green,
As though mine eyne,
?'Twere but keen.