behold a jocund morn indeed sun on high birds in sky yonder the whist firth eathing fro where a gale erranteth ye beholdest but the shadow mayhap a tithe of trothplight i deem e er and anon that is a lie lief i am not my words are but a twist tis a feignd lie through loathing i say a dotard gaffer i daresay a sapling not to and fro save hither is thy love not a loth but vying for my kinsmen beautiful tyrant fiend angelical dove featherd raven wolvish ravening lamb a hamlet for a slothful vassal soothing ale for a parched sot hie to tell me what ye judgest as naught i behold the shadow wherefore call me such names nay imp am i thou art my aghast hart grassing in the glade e er thou sayest aye thief of a plot now go to thy tryst go leave totter until ye dwindlest a morsel nay more for thy journey hither and thither that is a lie lief i am not my words are but a twist fare well with joy i came with rue i leave even the orb cannot help me melt the ice cannot help me melt the ice cannot help me melt the ice 1