Knew not my body lay untenanted
And they but guarded clay. And everywhere
'Twas thee I sought, my Glaia. When you came,
I looked, and knew that I need dream no more.
Gla. And thou art no more sad? I make thee happy?
Hen. When I am with thee 'tis continual Spring,
For in my heart is such sweet jugglery
Each winter-ragged month doth put on May.
Gla. It makes me fear to be so much to thee.