Behold a jocund morn indeed! -
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Sun on high - birds in sky.
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Yonder the whist firth eathing,
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Fro where a gale erranteth.
|
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Ye beholdest but the shadow.
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That is a lie!
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Mayhap a tithe of trothplight -
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Lief I am not!
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I deem - e'er and anon!
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My words are but a twist.
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Tis a feigned lie through loathing,
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I say!
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To and fro, save hither,
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Is thy love.
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A dotard gaffer, I daresay...
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Not a loth! -
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But vying for my kinsmen!
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...a sapling not!
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Beautiful tyrant!
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Fiend angelical!
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Dove-feathered raven!
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Wolvish-ravening lamb!
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A hamlet for a slothful vassal -
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Soothing ale for a parched sot.
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Hie to tell me
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What ye judgest as naught;
|
I behold the shadow!
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Wherefore call me such names;
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Nay imp am I!
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Thou art my aghast hart -
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Grazing in the glade.
|
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E'er thou sayest aye!
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That is a lie!
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Thief of a plot!
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Lief I am not!
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Now go to thy tryst!
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My words are but a twist!
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Go, leave, totter!
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Fare well! - with joy I came,
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Until ye dwindlest.
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With rue I leave
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A morsel, nay more,
|
Even the orb cannot
|
For thy journey
|
Help me melt the ice?!
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Hither and thither!
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|
-----------------
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A Hamlet For A Slothful Vassal
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| Theatre Of Tragedy |
