Then shall we sporten in delight,
And learn with Lettice to wax light,
That scornfully looks askance;
Then will we little Love awake,
That now sleepeth in Lethe lake,
And pray him leaden our dance.
THO. Willy, I ween thou be assot;
For lusty Love still sleepeth not,
But is abroad at his game.
WIL. How kenst thou that he is awoke?