"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 deep - e'er and anon!"      "To and fro, save hither,   Is thy love."      "Not a loth! -   But vying for my kinsmen!"      "Beautiful tyrant!   Fiend Angelica!   Dove-feathered raven!   Woluish-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!"      "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 jiy I came,   With rue I leave.   Even the orb cannot.   Help me melt the ice?"      "That is a lie!   Lief I am not!   My words are but a twist   Tis a feigned lie through loathing,   I say!"      "A dotard gaffer, I daresay..."      "...a sapling not!"      "Wherefore call me such names;   Nay imp am I!   Thou art my aghast hart -   Gazing in the glade."