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Tho thou well dost wish me ill
Audiart, Audiart, Where thy bodice laces start As ivy fingers clutching thru Its crevices, Audiart, Audiart, Stately, tall and lovely tender Who shall render Audiart, Audiart Praises meet unto thy fashion? Here a word kiss! Pass I on Unto Lady "Miels-de-Ben", Having praised thy girdles scope, How the stays ply back from it; I breathe no hope That thou shouldst . . . . Nay no whit Bespeak thyself for anything. Just a word in thy praise, girl, Just for the swirl Thy satins make upon the stair, Cause never a flaw was there Where thy torse and limbs are met: Tho thou hate me, read it set In rose and gold, * Or when the minstrel, tale half told Shall burst to lilting at the phrase "Audiart, Audiart" . . . . Bertrans, master of his lays, Bertrans of Aultaforte thy praise Sets forth, and tho thou hate me well, Yea tho thou wish me ill Audiart, Audiart. Thy lovliness is here writ till, Audiart, Oh, till thou come again. And being bent and wrinkled, in a form That hath no perfect limning, when the warm Youth dew is cold Upon thy hands, and thy old soul Scorning a new, wryd casement Churlish at seemed misplacement Finds the earth as bitter As now seems it sweet, Being so young and fair As then only in dreams, Being then young and wryd, Broken of ancient pride Thou shalt then soften Knowing I know not how Thou wert once she Audiart, Audiart For whose fairness one forgave Audiart, Audiart Que be-m vols mal. Unsatisfied? Search for more:Other Cool Sites:Hot Arts & Stage NewsLyrics Catalogue Sound Tracks Guide Guide to Serials and Shows English Subtitles For DivX Movies Hundreds of Cooking Recipes Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes Cool Online Encyclopedia Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews Algorithms Dictionary Funny Jokes and Anecdotes. Usenet Newsgroups Reader |