Sweeter than honey is your name a-lip, ✿ Running, as ’neath my ribs runs vital sprite:
For Love hath made me as a toothpick[[368]] lean ✿ And drowned in tears of sorrow and despight:
Let me but see you in my sleep, belike ✿ Shall clear my cheeks of tears that lovely sight.
Then a fourth recited the following couplets:—
Dumb is my tongue and scant my speech for thee ✿ And Love the direst torture gars me dree:
O thou full Moon, whose place is highest Heaven, ✿ For thee but double pine and pain in me.
And a fifth these[[369]]:—
I love a moon of comely shapely form ✿ Whose slender waist hath title to complain:
Whose lip-dews rival must and long-kept wine; ✿ Whose heavy haunches haunt the minds of men:
My heart each morning burns with pain and pine ✿ And the night-talkers note I’m passion-slain;