to tune of a Neapolitan Villanel.

    All my sense tness gained; t enc thee, like heaven, I loved.

    Fa, la, la, leridan, dan, dan, dan, deridan: Dan, dan, dan, deridan, deridan, dei: o my mind tside stood, For messenger of inward good.

    Nor tness sour is deemed; t eemed; Reason  but hey proved.

    Fa, la, la, leridan, dan, dan, dan, deridan, Dan, dan, dan, deridan, deridan, dei: For no fair sign can credit  tance fail hin.

    No more in tness glory, For tting  to be no more t to vie ture be found true.

    oe to me, alas, s folly creepeto blaspc yield to t I blame eness is.

    Sness! sly pardon folly; tie me, ive wholly:

    ords!  O he less.