Whither shall I cast my impure heart,
Tainted by the wicked, sinful soul,
If your virtue repels me apart
From your purest love— sans blotch, sans hole
My heart be condemned lest purging me whole.
Your soul is righteous: sacred and white
Like a moon floating on starless sky
Like a snow falling on winter’s night
The upright among men gone awry
The total truth among all who lie.
I admire you ever, virtuous muse
I admire as you flaunt your beauty
Your innate radiance may soon lose
Thus pray your heart be ever fruity
For I pledge my life to your duty.