Psychologies

by Sir Ronald Ross

You’ll be sad for me to-morrow.

Melfort.Yes, tell me.

Evaïd. Melfort.Yes, tell me.Tell me, tell me, tell me.

Melfort.Tell me, I say.

Evaïd. Melfort.Tell me, I say.No, no;

You will die, O you will perish

If I tell you that I love you.

I’ll not tell you that I love you.

Me though chillèd none shall cherish,

None would save me though I perish.