No pair is perfect, heaven-made or here,
Nor mystery why so many disagree,
Since none can share the point from which we see.
But, if among these temples ruined long years
Before our memories began, you’d say
“This tree so pleasantly resides upon
This mound,” or call the leaden-clouded dawn
Into account for lack of blue the day
It fails our eyes, and I concur, so when
I say then, “I vow all ways to pursue
Your good,” and you forever pledge to do
The same for me, our flaws with words we mend.
And thus two treasures mix, two pleasures find,
Two loves we fix and form a single mind.
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