What poor wings,
these words of mine,
to carry forth my love to you
from my deepest heart
where all is true
and filled with passion's wine.

What poor wings,
these sluggard words,
which wrap around my thoughts
As I await your kind reply
I tie my soul in knots.

What poor wings,
my finest words,
to such an end are sent;
evoking just a tender sigh
before the power's spent.

What poor wings
are words
for such a lofty height;
for they must burn their way to you
in spite of darkest night.

What poor wings
these words,
the soul of my lips 
in each refrain;
my heart in every verse.

What poor wings, these words.