Fret not; oh child from beauty
For nature only bears its duty
Speak the words thine heart desire
And tap from grace nature does acquire

Oh but her sight murders my strength
Her sheath is of gold and hence my relent
Better I'd calm and buried in me
Than speak and turn a buzzing bee

But for how long will thy feet restrain
And bear for thyself an endless pain
Bother not thy feeble mind
But speak the words thy mouth doth find

And though my feet be heavily shaken
If nature'd be fair to my risk thus taken
Let every soul be bold inspite;
To fall but rise for their greatest delight.

zahida