Held In Sure Arms

Like a reed that sways with every breeze,
My heart is feeble; it cowers in constant fear.
Dear woman,
With your beautiful, dauntless right arm,
Hold this body tight, I beg you.
And gently soothe this shudder-causing mind's affliction.
And plain hold me, wind your arms around me,
Press your shoulder flush next to mine,
Then place on my feeble heart,
That sweet warm hand of yours.
O, put your hand here next to my heart,
Dear woman.
And say to me now,
In your tear-muffled, kind-spoken words,
"Now, now, sweet child,
Don't you fear a thing.
You're fit, you're fine,
No matter what threatens your heart, don't be frightened.
Just stare far out at the distance, that's all.
Mind you, not an eyeblink,
Lest your timid heart fly off like a dove.
Stand firm, ever at my side.
And take my heart which has vigor to spare,
And take these hands that attract you,
And this chest, and these arms,
And hold on tight to this undaunted bosom."