This heart that flutters near my heart
My hope and all my riches is,

XXIV

Silently she's combing,
Combing her long hair

XXV

Lightly come or lightly go:
Though thy heart presage thee woe,

XXVI

Thou leanest to the shell of night,
Dear lady, a divining ear.

XXVII

Though I thy Mithridates were,
Framed to defy the poison-dart,

XXVIII

Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love;

XXIX