Storm and Stress
o when my lady comes
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O, when my lady comes,
And I with love behold her,
I take her to my beating heart
And in my arms enfold her;
My heart is filled with joy divine
For I am hers and she is mine.
Oh when her soft embraces
Do give my love completeness,
The perfumes of Kemet
Anoint me with their sweetness:
And when her lips are pressed to mine
I am made drunk and need no wine.