And the true God set up into his place,
Might stand unscathed in sanctity and worship,
For ages and for ages.
Alv. Serafina,
Why talk to me of ages, when the account
Of my misfortune and your cruelty
Measures itself by hours, and not by years!
It was but yesterday you loved me, yes,
Loved me, and (let the metaphor run on)
I never will believe it ever was,