Pardon me O' rose of Sharon

Pardon me oh rose of Sharon(s)
Bosom clasped in hands of wheat
Until ours is a tale of sweet obscurity
Blossomed within the barn we meet

Pardon me oh banker’s daughter
As I fall to stroke your cheek
The written words in working-mans razor
These make my love unique

Yours is a tale of breaking filament
Woe at the disfigure of a nail
Though mine is a tale of reservation
Measuring the produce in sleet and hail

Forgive my misgivings mistress
Although I have a wife
You’re abrupt
Tender in giving kisses
I’d rather share with you my life

For I know you wait on me always
In the chamber that we share
With your sullen clipped roses
Ever altering your hair

I fare visit you non-times
For my business is one of consume
And the experiences you allow us are only needed rare
Mistress fair
Pardon my misdoings
Yet I beg you treat my longings with the brushing of your hair
On my most sensitive quarter
Where my breaches are a tear