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Nor long I more thereof to learn.

When you describe how I might earn

Great wealth, thereto I can but say

I have enough, and fain the way

Would keep of gentle courtesy,

Which sweet and grateful is to me.

But devilish arts to magic due

Despise I, whether false or true.

As to the youth on whom such high

Praises you deign to multiply,

And in whose manners, ways, and face,

The fairest virtues find a place,

God grant that still in him they thrive.

Nor him, nor any man alive

I envy, nor indeed hath he

Hold on my love to high degree,

For though the chaplet that he sent

I took, thereby no more I meant

Of love than men mean when we hear

Them say: “God save you,” or “Good cheer;”

Or e’en as neighbours passing by:

“God bless you, friend,” politely cry.

Honour I give to him above

Most men, but no exceeding love;

Yet since he sent this chaplet fair,

And I accepted it, I swear

Nought else had pleased me half as much.

And since that his desire is such

To see me, let him come e’en now

And great will be my joy, I vow,

VOL. II.