No tempest out of the East!
Will you bring her the perfect love she gave,
And keep it unsoiled and true?
Will you bring her a heart as strong and brave
As the one she gives to you?
Else what does it matter if wreck betide;
Or the sun go down in cloud?
It were better for her, this day, you died
Than that Love should wear a shroud.
It were better far that her song were mute,