to tune of a Neapolitan Villanel.
All my sense tness gained; t enc thee, like heaven, I loved.
Fa, la, la, leridan, dan, dan, dan, deridan: Dan, dan, dan, deridan, deridan, dei: o my mind tside stood, For messenger of inward good.
Nor tness sour is deemed; t eemed; Reason but hey proved.
Fa, la, la, leridan, dan, dan, dan, deridan, Dan, dan, dan, deridan, deridan, dei: For no fair sign can credit tance fail hin.
No more in tness glory, For tting to be no more t to vie ture be found true.
oe to me, alas, s folly creepeto blaspc yield to t I blame eness is.
Sness! sly pardon folly; tie me, ive wholly:
ords! O he less.