Till one face lit with a wandering smile:
Come now, my lords," Bianca said,
Why sit ye heavy-eyed and sad?
Men say ye each have loved a maid;
Surely, I think, I should be glad
To draw so near for an hour or two
The maid I loved, though well I knew
The early mom should find me dead."
Then he who loved her, laughed and said,
Yea, lady mine, I will be bold