Whilst I'm lost in studying ever
Remain my joy and bliss to tell!
Oh, how kindly hath he kept his promise!For to me, who long had yearn'd, he grantedThee, my Lida, fill'd with soft affection.
While they their rites fulfil.
The last am I,--the black and small,And fain would be right merry withal.I like to eat and to drink full measure,I eat and drink, and give thanks with pleasure.
Wille wo wo wo!
For, as my book grows apace, all of my sequins I lose.-----Is' thou'rt in earnest, no longer delay, but render me happy;Art thou in jest? Ah, sweet love! time for all jesting is past.-----ART thou, then, vex'd at my silence? What shall I speak of? Thou markest
Ye Muses, hover round me!Ye Graces also!That is water, that is earth,And the son of water and of earthOver which I wander,Like the gods.
And with spirit's strength,
He loves, methinks, e'en to these glades so still,--
Who all woes and sorrows stillest,Who, for twofold misery,