Normale Version: Rickman, Thomas: To Miss ------
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To Miss ------

I stole not your garters, dear Margaret, believe me,
To place them around my neck or my knee:
They are valueless yet; or they do much deceive me;
Having never been worn and made sacred by thee.
Of Stars and of Garters so much has been said
That wit's at a stand on a subject so tried:
On the latter, what has not been sung to the maid
Ere lovers have hung themselves in them and died!
May such tragedy-doings never wait on your love;
But affection all pure and sublime be your lot;
So a heaven on earth your existence shall prove,
Whether fate shall assign you a palace or cot.
Then love for love only, ecstatic you'll barter
And exchange for the ring all the rights of the garter.