POEM: SONG

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    To the tune of a Neapolitan Villanel.

    All my sehy sweetness gaihy fair hair my heart ened; My pobbr></abbr>or reason thy words moved, So that thee, like heaven, I loved.

    Fa, la, la, leridan, dan, dan, dan, deridan: Dan, dan, dan, deridan, deridan, dei: While to my mind the outside stood, For messenger of inward good.

    Nor thy sweetness sour is deemed; Thy hair not worth a hair esteemed; Reason hath thy words removed, Finding that but words they proved.

    Fa, la, la, leridan, dan, dan, dan, deridan, Dan, dan, dan, deri<bdi></bdi>dan, deridan, dei: For no fair sign  credit win, If that the substance fail within.

    No more in thy sweetness glory, For thy knitting hair be sorry; Use thy words but to bewail thee That no more thy b<samp>?</samp>eams avail thee; Dan, dan, Dan, dan, Lay not thy colours more to view, Without the picture be found true.

    Woe to me, alas, she weepeth! Fool! in me what folly creepeth? Was I to blaspheme enraged, Where my<tt></tt> soul I have engaged? Dan, dan, Dan, dan, And wretched I must yield to this; The fault I blame her chasteness is.

    Sweetness! sweetly pardon folly; Tie me, hair, your captive >..</samp>olly:

    Words!  O words of heavenly knowledge! Know, my words their faults aowledge; Dan, dan, Dan, dan, And all my life I will fess, The less I love, I live the less.

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