Yet here is the Man who bought you first
Dying of his immortal smart,
Your Lover, the King with the broken heart,
Who while you, feasting, drink your fill,
Pass round the cup
Not looking up,
Calls down to you, “I thirst.”
“A king with a broken heart! Mon Dieu!
One breaks so many, cela peut se croire,
To remember all c’est la mer à boire,