Rapture at thought and joy when seen 1281
Belong to love and not to wine.
When passion grows palmyra-tall 1282
Sulking is wrong though millet-small.
Though slighting me he acts his will 1283
My restless eyes would see him still.
Huff I would, maid, but I forget; 1284
And leap to embrace him direct.
When close I see not lord’s blemish 1285
Like eyes that see not painter’s brush.
When he’s with me I see not fault 1286
And nought but fault when he is not.
To leap in stream which carries off 1287
When lord is close to feign a huff.
Like wine to addicts that does disgrace 1288
Your breast, O thief, is for my embrace!
Flower-soft is love; a few alone 1289
Know its delicacy so fine.
She feigned dislike awhile but flew 1290
Faster for embrace than I do.