A Hamlet for a Slothful Vassal

Behold a jocund morn indeed

Sun on high, birds in sky

Yonder the whist firth eathing

Fro where a gale erranteth

Oh, that is a lie (ye beholdest but the shadow)

Lief I am not (mayhap a tithe of trothplight, I deem)

My words are but a twist (e'er and anon)

'Tis a feigned lie through loathing, I say

To and fro, save hither, is thy love (a dotard gaffer, I daresay)

Not a loth, but vying for my kinsmen (a sapling not)

Beautiful tyrant

Fiend angelical

Dove-feathered raven

Wolvish-ravening lamb

A hamlet for a slothful vassal

Soothing ale for a parched sot

Hie to tell me what ye judgest as naught

I behold the shadow

Wherefore call me such names

Nay imp am I

Thou art my aghast hart

Grassing in the glade

No, that is a lie (e'er thou sayest aye)

Lief I am not (thief of a plot)

My words are but a twist (now go to thy tryst)

Fare well (go, leave, totter)

With joy I came, with rue I leave (until ye dwindlest)

Even the orb (a morsel, nay more)

Cannot help me melt the ice (for thy journey hither and thiter)

Cannot help me melt the ice

Cannot help me melt the ice