I ask thee for a kiss no more
As once I ask (and not in vain);
For now thy spirit I adore
To wed thy spirit I am fain
Thy face is fair, thine eyes are fond
Thy form was cast in beauty's mould;
But far beneath, or far beyond
Dwells she, whom I would fain enfold:
She tends a shrine of vestal fire
A fount of virgin fancy sips;
Immured from intimate desire
She hides her heart and locks her lips
Mock me no more, but let us wed!
Come forth, come forth, secluded bride!
No other way, when we arе dead
Shall we rejoicе that we have died
To Nellie was written by Francis Money-Coutts & Isaac Albéniz.