"Here—my Helen, beginneth—the fulness of life, methinks!"
Now presently upon the stillness, from the court below, stole the notes of a lute and therewith a rich voice upraised in singing:
"O when is the time a maid to kiss?
Tell me this, now tell me this.
'Tis when the day is scarce begun,
'Tis from the setting of the sun.
Is time for kissing ever done,
Tell me this, now tell me this."