BALLADE DE LA JOLIE MARION 
47 
When weary, steal those luscious sips ; 
Another’s hands play in my hair 
And find delight for me to bare 
The bosom, and the passionate mound 
White and, for Venus’ temple, round, 
A garden of wild thyme whose eye 
My sword shall piece, and never wound : 
For we must part, and love must die. 
 
You say—but Oh !  my Marion’s kiss 
Shall linger on my palate still, 
No joy on earth is like to this 
That we have tasted to our fill 
Of all our sweet lascivious will. 
The cup is drained of lust’s delight, 
Yet wells with pleasure, and by night 
I’ll come once more and loving lie 
Between thine amorous limbs, despite 
That we must part and love must die. 
 
ENVOI 
Thus, sweet, I’ll sing when day doth break 
And weary lovers must awake