Because your voice was at my side
I gave him pain,

XVIII

O Sweetheart, hear you
Your lover's tale;

XIX

Be not sad because all men
Prefer a lying clamour before you:

XX

In the dark pine-wood
I would we lay,

XXI

He who hath glory lost, nor hath
Found any soul to fellow his,

XXII

Of that so sweet imprisonment
My soul, dearest, is fain -- -

XXIII