He looked at the sky and he looked at the plain.
“O lady!” he said, “’twas a sin and shame
To leave for the chase so fair a dame.
“O lady!” he said, “we two will flee
To the blithesome land of Italie;
“There the orange grows, and the fruitful vine,
And a bower of myrtle shall be thine.”
He has taken her hand and kissed her mouth:
Now Ho! sing Ho! for the sunny South.
He has kissed her mouth and clasped her waist: